Daisy In The Field - Page 30/231

"He would think he had," I answered, feeling the difficulties

in my way.

"Aren't you my Daisy?" he said, looking down into my face with

his flashing eyes, all alight with fire and pleasure.

"But that -" I began.

"No evasions, Daisy. Answer. Aren't you mine?"

I said "yes" meekly. But what other words I had purposed to

add were simply taken off my lips. I looked round, in scared

fashion, to see who was near; but Thorold laughed softly

again.

"It is too dark for people to make minute investigations,

Daisy."

"Dark!" said I. "Oh, Christian, I must go home. I shall be

missed, and Mrs. Sandford will be frightened."

"Will the doctor come after you?"

"Oh, no, he is sick; but Christian, I must go home."

He turned and went with me, changing his tone, and making a

variety of tender inquiries about my situation and my doings.

They were something new; they were so tender of me, so

thoughtful of my welfare, so protecting in their inquisitive

care; and moreover they were the inquiries of one who had a

right to know all about me. Something entirely new to my

experience; my mother's care was never so sympathetic; my

father's never so fond; even my guardian's was never so

strict. Dr. Sandford to be sure had no right to make his care

like this. I did not know that Mr. Thorold had; but I found it

was indisputable. And in proportion it was delightful. We had

a slow, very busy walk and talk until within a few doors of my

Washington home; there we parted, with a long hand clasp, and

the promise on my part that Mr. Thorold should find me at the

same hour and place as to-day on the next evening.

Nobody was looking for me, and I gained my room in safety. I

was very happy, yet not all happy; for the first use I made of

my solitude, after getting rid of my bonnet and mantilla, was

to sit down and cry. I asked myself the reason, for I did not

like to be in the dark about my own feelings; this time they

were in a good deal of confusion.

As I look back, I think the uppermost thing was my happiness;

this new, delicate, strange joy which had come into my life

and which I had never tasted so fully or known the flavour of

it so intimately as this evening. Looks and tones, and little

nameless things of manner telling almost more yet, came back

to me in a small crowd and overwhelmed me with their

testimony. Affection, and tenderness, and pleasure; and

something apart from these, an inexplicable assuming of me and

delight in me as so assumed; they found me or made me very

weak to-night. What was the matter? I believe it was, first,

this happiness; and next, the doubt that rested over it and

the certainty that I must leave it. Certainly my weeping was

hearty enough to answer to all three causes. It was a very

unaccustomed indulgence to me; or not an indulgence at all,

for I was not fond of tears; but it did act as a relief. I

washed away some of my trouble in my tears; the happiness

sprung to the surface; and then I could almost weep for joy

and thankfulness that I was so happy. Even if the grounds of

my happiness were precarious, I had trusted God all my life

with all I cared for; could I not trust Him still? My tears

stopped; and I believe one or two smiles could not be checked

as I remembered some look or word of Mr. Thorold's.