As the spring drew on, and days grew gentle, and soft weather
replaced the strong brace of the winter frost, my condition of
health became more and more unsatisfactory. My mother grew
seriously uneasy at length and consulted Dr. Sandford. And the
next thing was Dr. Sandford's appearance at our hotel.
"What is the matter with you, Daisy?" he asked, very
professionally. Mamma was out when he came.
"Nothing -" I answered; "except what will take its own time."
"Not like you, that answer," he said.
"It is like me now," I replied.
"We must get back to a better condition. It is not I good for
you to be in this place. Would you like to go into quarters
near Melbourne, for the summer?"
"Better than anything! - if you could manage it. Mamma would
not like it."
"I think I can convince her."
Dr. Sandford I knew had powers of convincing, and I judge they
were helped on this occasion by facts in the pecuniary state
of our affairs, to which my mother could no longer quite shut
her eyes. She had not money to remain where she was. I think
she had not been able, properly, to be there, for a good while
past; though the bills were paid somehow. But now her
resources failed; the war was evidently ending disastrously
for the South; her hopes gave way; and she agreed to let Dr.
Sandford make arrangements for our going into the country. It
was very bitter to her, the whole draught she had to swallow;
and the very fact of being under necessity. Dr. Sandford had a
deal of trouble, I fancy, to find any house or arrangement
that would content her. No board was procurable that could be
endured even for a day. The doctor found at last, and hired,
and put in order for us, a small cottage on the way between
Melbourne and Crum Elbow; and there, early in June, mamma and
I found ourselves established; "Buried," she said;
"sheltered," I thought.
"I wish I was dead," mamma said next morning.
"Mamma - why do you speak so? just now."
"There is no sort of view here - nothing in the world but
those grass fields."
"We have this fine elm tree over the house, mamma, to shade
us. That is worth a great deal."
"If the windows had Italian shades, they would be better. What
windows! Who do you suppose lived here before us?"
"Mamma, I do think it is very comfortable."
"I hope you will show that you think so, then. I have had no
comfort in you for a long time past."
I thought, I should never have comfort in anybody any more.
"What has changed you so?"
"Changes come to everybody, I suppose, mamma, now and then."