The next day I was myself again. Not relieved from the
impression which had seized me when I first saw Mr. Thorold;
but quietly able to bear it; in a sort raised above it. To do
the moment's duty; to gather, and to give, every stray crumb
of relief or pleasure that might be possible for either of us;
better than that, to do the Lord's will and to bear it, were
all I sought for. All at least, of which I was fairly
conscious that I sought it; the heart has a way of carrying on
underground trains of feeling and action of its own, and so
did mine now. As I found afterwards. But I was perfectly able
for all my work. When next I had an opportunity for private
talk with Mr. Thorold, he asked me with a smile, if the
resentment was all gone? I told him, "Oh, yes."
"What was the 'self-will' about, Daisy?"
"You remember too well," I said.
"What?"
"Me and my words."
"Why?"
"It is not easy to say why, just in this instance."
"No. Well, Daisy, say the other thing. About the self-will."
I hesitated.
"Are you apt to be self-willed?" he asked, tenderly.
"I do not know. I believe I did not use to think so. I am
afraid it is very difficult to know oneself, Christian."
"I think you are self-willed," he said, smiling.
"Did you use to see it in me?"
"I think so. What is the present matter in hand, Daisy?"
I did not want to tell him. But I could not run away. And
those bright eyes were going over my face and reading in it, I
knew. I did not know what they read. I feared. He waited,
smiling a little as he looked.
"I ought not to be self-willed, - about anything," - I said at
last.
"No, I suppose not. What has got a grip of your heart then,
Daisy?"
"I am unwilling to see you lying here," I said. It was said
with great force upon myself, under the stress of necessity.
"And unwilling that I should get any but one sort of
discharge," - he added.
"You do not fear it," I said, hastily.
"I fear nothing. But a soldier, Daisy, - a soldier ought to be
ready for orders; and he must not choose. He does not know
where the service will call for him. He knows his Captain does
know."
I stood still, slowly fanning Mr. Thorold; my self-control
could go no further than to keep, me outwardly quiet.
"You used to be a soldier," he said gently, after a pause.
"You are yet. Not ready for orders, Daisy?"
"Christian - you know, -" I stammered forth.
"I know, my beloved. And there is another that knows. He knows
all. Can't you leave the matter to him?"