"I do not think Washington agrees with Daisy," Mrs. Sandford
said one morning at breakfast.
"She never looked better," said the doctor.
"No. Oh, I don't mean that; she looks all herself; yes, she is
in great beauty; but she is uncommonly abstracted and
uninterested."
"Not being in general a sensitive person," observed Dr.
Sandford.
I explained that I had never been more interested in my life;
but that these things made me sober.
"My dear Daisy!" Mrs. Sandford laughed. "You were never
anything but sober yet, in all your little life. I should like
to see you intoxicated."
I felt on dangerous ground and was silent. The doctor asked
why? - to Mrs. Sandford's last speech.
"No matter!" said the lady. "The first man she loves will know
why."
"The first," said Dr. Sandford dryly. "I hope she will not
love more than one."
"She will be an uncommonly happy woman then," said Mrs.
Sandford. "Nonsense, Grant! every woman loves two or three
before she has done. Your first liking will come to nothing, -
Daisy, my dear, I forewarn you; - and most probably the second
too; but no one will be the wiser but yourself. Why don't you
blush, child? On my word, I believe you are growing pale!
Never mind, child; I am not a prophet."
I believe the blushes came then, and they all laughed at me;
but Dr. Sandford asked me very kindly if I was too tired to
see the review that day? I was not tired; and if I had been,
nothing would have tempted me to be absent from the review. I
went everywhere, as far as I could; and Dr. Sandford was
always with us, indulging every fancy I expressed or did not
express, it seemed to me. He had to work very hard at other
times to make up for it; and I thought Washington did not
agree with him. He looked pale and jaded this day.
I thought so after the morning's work was done; at the time I
had no leisure for such thoughts. The morning's work was a
review of many thousand troops, by the President. Dr. Sandford
and our friends had secured an excellent place for us, from
which we could well see all we wished to see; and I wished to
see everything. For various reasons. The platform where Mr.
Lincoln stood had its own peculiar attractions and interests.
It held himself, first of all, standing in front, in plain
view much of the time. It held besides a group of men that one
liked to look at just then. General Scott was there, and I
know not how many other generals; the members of the Cabinet,
and inferior military officers; and each colonel of the
regiments that passed in review, after passing, dismounted and
joined the group on the platform. I looked at these officers
with particular interest, for they and their command were
going straight across into Virginia expecting active service
soon. So I looked at their men. While each regiment marched
by, the band belonging to it halted and played. They were
going to the war. In good earnest they were going now. This
was no show of pleasure; it was work; and my heart, it seemed
to me, alternately beat and stood still. Sometimes the
oppression of feeling grew very painful, obliged as I was to
hide carefully the greater part of what I felt. A little
additional stir was almost more than I could bear. One
regiment - the Garibaldis, I think, had bouquets of flowers
and greens in their hats. I did not indeed notice this, until
the foremost came just in front of the platform and the
President. Then the bouquets were taken out from the hats, and
were tossed, in military order, rank by rank, as the files
passed by, to Mr. Lincoln's feet. It was a little thing; but
how it shook me! I was glad of the rush which followed the
passing of the regiment; the rush of people eager to secure
these bunches of flowers and evergreens for memorials; the
diversion of interest for a moment gave me chance to fight
down my heart-swelling.