Daisy In The Field - Page 67/231

Meanwhile, in Miss Cardigan's little room, I struggled for a

right mind. If I was sorrowful, I told myself, I was also

glad. If I pitied myself a little for all that had happened,

it was also true that I would not have undone it - that is, my

part in it, - for the world. I would rather belong to Mr.

Thorold, even through all this pain, than be nothing to him

and have him nothing to me. Yes, even going away on my distant

journey to Europe, the knowledge of his love was a richer

jewel in my heart than any other of earth's jewels that I

carried. So what was I crying about?

I washed away some of the soreness of the days past in those

tears. And then I came quietly back to my position; willing

that God should dispose of me and do with me what He pleased;

send me away or bring me home; give or take from me. At least

so far I was willing, that I gave up all care-taking and

ceased to struggle. My mood grew even sunshiny as I walked

back to the hotel where we were all stationed. Hope began to

execute little dances before me.

The doctor was busy now, I understood, with trying to find

some party with whom I might make the journey to Switzerland.

Mrs. Sandford was eager to get back to Melbourne, or its

neighbourhood; I always called the whole region by that name.

How I wished I could be allowed to go with her, and wait there

till an opportunity offered for my further journey! But such

were not the views of my guardian.

"Here's devotion!" exclaimed Mrs. Sandford as I came in to tea

one evening. "My dear, he says he will go with you himself."

"Where? - who?" I asked.

"Why, Grant, to be sure. He says he will go with you, himself,

and then his mind will be easy."

"How can he?" I said. "An army surgeon, - how can he get

away?"

"Yes, and in war-time," said Mrs. Sandford. "But the truth is,

that he needs to get away, he says; he is not fit for duty;

and the voyage over and back will just set him up. I think it

is a capital plan, for my part. He won't be gone any length of

time, you know; and indeed he must not; he will just run

across and put you in the hands of your friends; and so your

passage is engaged, Daisy, in the Persia. I only wish I was

going along, but I can't. I advise you never to marry Grant.

It ties one up terribly."

"It does not tie you very close," the doctor answered.

"When does the Persia go?" I asked.