Melbourne House, Volume 2
by
Susan Warner
Part 2 out of 7
gracefully a little over, and began to cleave her way through the
rippling water in good earnest. Then how the waves sparkled! how cheery
the movement was! how delicious the summer air over the water! although,
the sun was throwing down his beams with great power already and the,
day promised to be sultrily hot.
"It is going to be intense," said Mrs. Randolph.
"Melting!"--said Mrs. Gary.
"You will have enough of it before the end of the day--" remarked Mr.
Sandford. Mr. Sandford was a good-humoured looking gentleman, with a
sensible face and black whiskers; but he was a gentleman, and Daisy
approved of him. He was very unlike his brother. His wife was a very
plain person, in feature, and not very talkative; letting her husband do
that for her; but kindly and pleasant nevertheless; and Daisy approved
of her too.
"At what hour do you expect the day _will_ end, practically?" inquired
Mrs. Randolph of her husband. He smiled.
"I should say--judging from present tokens--not till the sun gets well
down on his western way."
"First-rate!" said Preston aside. "We'll have a good time for fishing."
"But that will make it very late crossing the river, Mr. Randolph? will
it not?"
"It may."
"There is a moon," said Mrs. Sandford.
"Moon! I hope we are not to be beholden to the moon's good offices!"
exclaimed the other lady. "It is only ten o'clock now--not that. We
shall be tired to death of the woods before we have done with them."
"You must try fishing, aunt Felicia," said Preston.
"Yes--a good idea," remarked Mr. Sandford. "I do not know how the ladies
can get along without some sport--ha, ha! There is a boat on the
lake--isn't there?"
"They say so," Mr. Randolph returned. "I have not been there for a long
time."
"Then I shall take the charge of your entertainment, Mrs. Randolph," Mr.
Sandford went on. "I shall persuade you to put yourself under my
guidance, and let me initiate you into the mysteries of pickerel
catching."
"I do not think you can persuade me out of the shade--if once I get in
it again--" said the lady.
"Why mamma," said Ransom, "pickerel fishing is splendid!"
Mr. Randolph looked at Daisy. No heat nor shadow too much for her! With
one hand clasped in Nora's, her little face was a pattern of perfect
content; nay, it was full of delighted joy. Mr. Randolph thought he
could endure his portion of the heat.
"Nora," said Daisy, "isn't it nice?"
"It goes nicely now," said Nora.
"But isn't it pleasant?"
"Yes. It is a great deal pleasanter than in a little boat. This one is
good and large."
"Isn't the water pretty?"
"I like the green grass better," said Nora.
"O yes! but then I like this too. I like it very much. Nora, what did
you mean by a pic-nic?"
"A pic-nic?" said Nora.
"Yes; you said you thought people did not eat dinner, but it was a
_pic-nic_."
"Well, I thought they didn't."
"What did you mean by a _pic-nic_?"
"Why I meant just that. You know what a pic-nic is."
"We always have dinner when we go on a pic-nic," said Daisy.
"Then I don't think it is a pic-nic."
"What is it?"
"I don't know. Daisy, are you going to ride in that queer chair?"
"I suppose so. My ankle isn't quite strong yet, you know. Wasn't it nice
of Dr. Sandford to prepare it for me?"
"I don't know, _I_ don't think he is nice," said Nora.
Which expression of opinion was so very startling to Daisy that it took
her some time to recover from it. She sought out the doctor with her eye
where he was sitting forward of the mast, somewhat hid from her by a
piece of the sail; she scanned his countenance, with its calm nobleness
of feature, and steadfast, reserved, beautiful blue eye. Doubtless, he
was not everything Daisy wished him; nevertheless to her he was very
"nice" indeed. Her eye came back satisfied.
At the other end of the boat the party were talkative and gay. Mr.
Randolph held the main sheet in his own hand; Mr. Sandford had the
rudder; neither of them had much to do; for the wind was gentle and
fair, and the boat kept her straight course for the opposite shore. The
river was wide however at this place; the other shore was an object in
view for a good while before they reached it. Slowly and steadily the
little skiff skimmed over; they got to the middle of the river; then the
trees before them on the other side, with the cleared fields in one or
two spots, began to shew in more distinct forms and colours. The sun was
very hot! So hot, that it seemed to kill the breeze. As they drew near
their place of disembarkation, the motion of the vessel grew slack; the
sail fluttered now and then; the propelling force just lasted till they
got to shore, and then nobody said anything more of any air felt to be
stirring.
"I think we had better stay on the water," said Mrs. Gary. "It is
positively stifling here."
"It will be better when we get in the woods," suggested Mr. Sandford.
"No,--begging your pardon," Mr. Randolph answered.
"No?--will it be worse, Mr. Randolph?" said his wife.
"I hope not--for I think you could broil a beefsteak here in another
hour; when the sun gets on the meridian."
"Then do let us move away from here at once! it is oppressive. I do not
know how we are going to walk, but I suppose we shall find out. We may
hope there will be a little freshness by the lake."
Mr. Stanfield's boat however had to be waited for a few minutes. It got
to shore just as Mr. Fish's skiff appeared in sight coasting down on the
same side, from behind a point. The whole party were soon together,
exchanging shakes of the hand and puffs of condolence on the state of
the atmosphere. There was presently a division of forces. All the boys,
Preston, Ransom, and Alexander Fish, compared notes and fishing tackle.
The ladies and gentlemen, with one or two elder girls, Frederica Fish
and Theresa Stanfield and Eloise Gary, congregated into a moving mass of
muslins and parasols. While Daisy and Nora were joined by Ella
Stanfield; and a great constraint fell upon all three. Ella was a
comparative stranger; a nice looking child, thoughtful and old beyond
her years. She looked like gravity; Nora liked gayety; while Daisy was
most like the thing that bears her name. They stood like little pinks of
propriety, without saying anything to each other. This constraint was
soon broken up by the preparations for the march. On enquiry it was
found that there were two or three ways to the lake. One was short and
easy (in comparison) but very narrow; a mere footpath through the woods.
Another had a wider track; but it had also a rough footing of rocks and
stones, and was much longer; taking a circuit to reach the place.
Another still was only used by eager lovers of the picturesque, though
it was said to reward them.
As soon as all this was explained to the understanding of the company,
the larger division set off immediately for the easiest and quickest
road to the lake; no other recommendation was worth a moment's
considering. With quick disappearance one after another muslin dress and
gay parasol was lost within the edge of the woods which their chosen
path immediately entered. They vanished from the shore. Every one of
them was presently out of sight. Mr. Randolph had seen that Dr. Sandford
was putting Daisy into her travelling conveyance; and thinking no
attention of his own could be needful he had gone on in advance of the
party with Mrs. Stanfield. The very last of them, muslins and parasols
and all, was swallowed up in the enclosing woods, almost before Daisy
was established in her chair. Her bearers lifted it then to receive
instructions from Dr. Sandford as to their method of playing their part.
They were Logan and Sam; James was devoted to his own particular charge.
"Why where are Nora and Ella?" Daisy suddenly exclaimed.
"Everybody seems to have gone on," answered the doctor. "Except the
boys. Now Daisy, are you comfortable? is it all right?"
"It is nice, Dr. Sandford!"--But at the same time Daisy wondered much
and grieved not a little that her companions should have left her to go
alone. Was that kindness? or good manners?
"Did they know which way I was going?" she said.
"I fancy so," said the doctor; "they have done as everybody else
does--gone with the crowd. Now, you fellows, you know the way."
"Yes, sir."
"When you come to a house, remember, you must turn sharp to the right.
Boys, you must go with the chair as a body-guard."
"Why must we?" said Ransom.
"You would not have your sister go alone?"
"You are going that way."
"You are mistaken. I am not."
"She has got Logan and Sam to take care of her. Girls always have to be
taken care of!" exclaimed Ransom in disgust.
"I am astonished at your want of gallantry. Preston, I shall depend on
you to see that the chair is properly attended."
"Which way are you going, sir?"
"By myself--to see if I can get a shot at something."
Preston did not look delighted, Daisy saw, though he accepted the charge
the doctor gave him. The doctor himself strode off with his gun,
disappearing in the woods at the nearest point. Daisy was left with her
two bearers and her three attendants.
"Well boys, we may as well get along," said Ransom discontentedly.
"There is no occasion that we should keep poking on behind this
concern."
They passed it and took the lead. Preston as he passed asked Daisy how
it went, and if she were comfortable. It went very nicely, and she was
very comfortable; and receiving this assurance Preston sprang forward to
regain Alexander Fish's company, with whom he was holding an animated
discourse on the making and using of artificial flies. The three boys
trudged along in advance; the motions of their busy heads, and of their
active feet, telling that there was no lack of interest or excitement
_there_. The chair followed steadily with its little burden. It went
nicely; she was very comfortable; it was a new and most pleasant mode of
getting over the ground; and yet--there was something at work in Daisy's
heart that was not pleasure. She was sadly disappointed. She was left
alone. It had tried her a good deal that Nora and Ella should have ran
after the larger party with so cavalier an abandonment of her, when they
knew her chair must go another road. Then she was very sorry that the
doctor had seen good to forsake her; and felt that from the
thoughtfulness or unselfishness of boys she had little to hope for. Look
at them! there they went before her, putting more and more distance
between them and the chair every minute. Perhaps they would entirely
forget their little convoy and be out of sight in a trifle more time.
And in all that big party of pleasure, everybody engaged with somebody
else, she was left with no one to speak to her, and no company at all
but that of Logan and Sam. Daisy two or three times put up her hand
stealthily to her face to get rid of a tear that had found its way
there. Daisy thought at first that she would not have done so to her
friends as they had done to her; but then presently she reflected what
reason she had to know better and to do better, that they had not; and
instead of anything like resentment, a very gentle and tender feeling of
pity and kindness arose in Daisy's mind toward them. Her hurt sense of
unfriendliness quite soothed itself away; and now Daisy began to enjoy
herself and the day and the party of pleasure. Her share of it, at
least. Her chair was under shadow of the tall woods now. It is true, it
was very hot there. No air seemed moving. The chair-bearers often raised
an arm to their brows to wipe away the heated moisture that stood there
and ran down their faces. But Daisy had no exertion to make; and instead
of that, her own motion seemed to give a little life to the lifeless
air. Then she was at leisure to look and enjoy; not having even to take
care of her own footing. The depth of green leafage over her head when
she looked up; the depth of green shade on either hand of her, pierced
by the endless colonnade of the boles of trees; how wildly beautiful it
was! Daisy thought of a good many things she would like to ask Dr.
Sandford--if she had the liberty; but he did not talk about wonderful
things to her now that she was well and had her own means of amusement.
Now and then Daisy had the sight of a red squirrel, running along a
tree bough or scampering over the ground from one rock to another. What
jumps he would make to get out of her way! And birds were singing too,
sometimes; and mosses were spread out in luxuriant patches of wood
carpeting in many places; and rocks were brown and grey, and grown with
other mosses and ferns; and through all this fairy work of beauty
Daisy's chair went at an easy, quiet pace, with a motion that she
thought it very pleasant to feel.
It was a wild old wood, which nobody had ever meddled with. Things were
just as nature's work had made them. The path the little party were
travelling was a wood road merely, where country wagons had made a
track; or more properly, where the country people had made a track for
their wagons. It was but a rough way; stumps of trees that had been cut
down stood right in the middle of it; and rocks and stones were in some
places very thickly strewn over it. After some time of wandering over
level ground, the path took a turn and began to get among the hills. It
wound up and down and was bordered now by steep hillsides and
sharp-rising rocks. It was all the wilder and prettier. The house Dr.
Sandford spoke of had been passed; the turn had been taken; there was
nothing to do now but follow on till they found the lake; but there were
no signs of it yet, nor any sound of voices to be heard in the distance.
Even the boys were gone on out of sight; the stillness of summer noon
was all through the deep woods, for it is a time of day when the birds
do not feel like ringing much. Daisy enjoyed it. She thought no one of
all their company was having a better time probably than she.
Suddenly Sam, who was foremost of the bearers, gave a great shout; and
at the same instant dropped his end of Daisy's chair and sprang to one
side. Then stood still.
"What for air ye playing capers like that?" inquired Logan, with an air
of great disgust and a strong Scotch accent. Sam stood still, drawing
his countenance into all manner of grimaces.
"Speak then, can't ye! What ails ye? Don't stand there like a Merry
Andrew, boy!"
"I've hurted myself!" Sam groaned.
"And how did ye hurt yourself? When ye were walking along, couldn't ye
go for'rard quietly? Where's the hurt?"
"My foot!" said Sam bending down to it. "I can't stir it. Oh!"
"Did ye hurt yourself before or after ye gave such a loup?" Logan
grunted, going over however now to bring his own wisdom to bear on Sam's
causes of trouble. "Whatever possessed ye boy, with the end of the chair
in your hand?"
"I see a sarpent--" said Sam submissively.
"A sarpent!" echoed Logan--"it's not your pairt to be frighted if you
see a sarpent. What hurt would the sight of the brute do ye? There's no
harm come to ye, boy, but the start."
"I can't move it--" repeated Sam under his breath.
"Logan, perhaps he has sprained his ankle," said Daisy from her chair;
where at first she had been pretty well frightened.
"Weel--I don't see it," replied Logan slowly and unbelievingly.
"How does it feel, Sam?" Daisy asked.
"It don't feel without I stir it, Miss Daisy--and then, it's like a
knife."
"He has sprained it, I am afraid, Logan," said Daisy getting out of her
chair and coming to the consultation. "I think it is swelling now."
Sam had bared his unfortunate ankle, Logan looked up from it to the
little speaker whose words were so quietly wise, with unspoken
admiration.
"Can't ye walk then, Sam?" he urged. "Here is Miss Daisy in the middle
of the road and wanting to be at the Lake--and how much farther it may
be to the Lake is a subject unknown to me. Can't ye bear your foot
surely?"
Sam's reply was sorrowful but decided; he could not bear it at all, with
any weight upon it.
"Never mind, Logan," said Daisy; "I can wait. You had better go forward
and see if you can find the boys. They can take care of me."
Logan felt the justness of this proposition, and at once put his long
legs in swift motion to overtake the advance party; exercising a good
strong voice too presently in hallooing to them. Daisy was left with
Sam. The thought crossed her mind that this was getting to be an odd
party of pleasure; but her real concern was for the sprained ankle.
That, she was very sorry for. Her own delay and disappointment she took
patiently.
Logan's halloos brought the boys to a stand. They waited till he came up
to them, not deeming it necessary on their part to go back to see what
was the matter. When they heard his news there was a disagreeable pause.
What was to be done?
"Daisy can walk the rest of the way," was the decision of her brother.
"How far is it?" said Preston.
"I don't know!--it's no great things of a walk anyhow. Girls are always
getting into trouble!"
"But what has got to be done with Sam?" said Preston.
"He can take care of himself," said Sam's young master.
"He can't move, sir, on his own feet," said Logan.
"You'll have to carry him, then. I suppose we cannot leave him in the
woods, for humanity."
"There's Miss Daisy, sir."
"What a plague!" exclaimed Ransom. "Daisy can walk. She must at any
rate; and you can bring her chair along to make firewood. Boys we ought
to be there this minute--at the Lake. We shall be cheated out of all
our fishing before dinner. That's along of mounting guard on a girl!
And after dinner there won't be two inches of time."
"Hush, Ransom!" said Preston.
At this point the consultation was enlarged, and its character somewhat
modified by the coming of Dr. Sandford upon the scene. From a height not
far off, where he was roaming with his gun, he had perceived the group
discerned that something was wrong, and come down with a quick step to
reach them. His eye rather than his voice asked what was the matter. He
was answered in various styles by the different members of the group.
"Here is a muss!" said Ransom.
"Miss Daisy, sir, she is left standing in the middle o' the
forest!"--said Logan.
"Sam has very stupidly sprained his ankle," said Preston, "and cannot
move."
The doctor without a word turned in the direction from which Logan had
come. "Follow me, young gentlemen," said he, looking over his
shoulder,---"I shall need your help." So unwillingly enough, the boys,
fishing tackle and all, turned back upon their steps, and followed. They
soon came to Daisy's emptied chair, where she stood mounting guard over
Sam.
The ankle was badly sprained; there was no doubt of that. Sam not only
could carry nobody; he must himself be carried. The doctor ordered that
Logan should take him on his back and convey him as far as the poor
little house they had passed on the way. A good lift it was, for Sam was
a well grown, stout fellow; but Logan was a long-limbed, sinewy, brawny
Scotchman, and he made no difficulty of the job. The doctor in the first
place deposited his gun against a tree, and did what was needful for the
hurt ankle.
"Now," said he to Daisy, "how are you going to get forward?"
"I can walk the rest of the way," said Daisy.
"Pardon me. Not with my leave. Boys, which, of you will take the honour
of being chair-bearers? I have my gun to care for."
"I will be one," said Preston.
"And Ransom will be the other. Come, sir!"
"Honour!"--said Ransom as he moved sullenly forward. "I think girls
ought to stay at home when there is anything going on. They are plaguily
in one's way!"
"That is a very womanish speech," said the doctor; "in so far as that it
is very unmanly."
Ransom's temper nowise improved by this reply, he took up sulkily his
ends of the chair poles; and once more the party set forward. It was not
quite so pleasant now for Daisy; her chair was no longer carried
smoothly. Preston, who was in advance, did his part perfectly well; but
Ransom, behind her, let the chair go up and go down and sway about very
unsteadily, besides that every step was with a jolting motion. It kept
Daisy in constant uneasiness. Dr. Sandford walked on just before with
his gun; Alexander Fish came after, laughing and jesting with the other
boys.
"How does it go, Daisy?" said the doctor, stopping after a while to
inquire.
"Mayn't I get out and walk, Dr. Sandford?"
"What for?"
"I should like it very much!"
"Do you not ride easily?"
"Not quite," said Daisy. "It throws me about a good deal."
"Ah! Did it do so when Logan and Sam carried you?"
"I did not feel it then," said Daisy unwillingly.
"Your porters are unskilled."
The doctor took his station by Ransom's hand, remarking that he would
see that he did his work well. And he was as good as his word. He kept a
constant eye on the management of the chair: and when Ransom neglected
his duty, gave him a word of admonition or advice, so keen and
contemptuous in its rebuke, though slight and dry, that even Ransom's
thickness of apprehension felt it, and sheered off from meeting it. The
last part of the distance Daisy was thoroughly well cared for, and in
silence; for the doctor's presence had put a stop to all bantering
between the boys. In furious silence on Ransom's part this last portion
of the way was accomplished.
At the lake at last! And in Daisy's breast at least, everything but
pleasure was now forgotten. A very beautiful sheet of water, not very
small either, with broken shores, lay girdled, round with the unbroken
forest. Close to the edge of the lake the great trees rose up and flung
their arms over; the stems and trunks and branches were given back again
in the smooth mirror below. Where the path came out upon the lake, a
spread of greensward extended under the trees for a considerable space;
and this was spotted and variegated now with the scattered members of
the pleasure party. Blue and pink and white and green, the various light
muslins contrasted with the grey or the white dresses of the gentlemen;
while parasols were thrown about, and here and there a red shawl lay
upon the ground, for somebody's reclining carpet. To add to all this,
which made already a very pretty picture under the canopy of the great
trees, a boat lay moored at a little point further on; baskets and
hampers congregated with great promise in another quarter under guard of
James and one or two of his helpers; and upon it all the sunlight just
peeped through the trees, making sunny flecks upon the ground. Nobody
wanted more of it, to tell the truth; everybody's immediate business
upon reaching the place had been to throw himself down and get cool.
Daisy and Dr. Sandford were the two signal exceptions.
Nora and Ella came running up, and there was a storm of questions. "O
Daisy, isn't it beautiful!" "How came you to be so long getting here?"
"Did you have a nice ride?" "O Daisy, what are we going to do, you and
Ella, and I? Everybody else is going to do something."
"What are they going to do?" said Daisy.
"O I don't know! everything. Mr. Randolph is going out in the boat to
fish, and all the ladies are going with him--Mrs. Sandford and Mrs.
Stanfield and your mother; only Mrs. Fish isn't going; but Mr. Sandford
is. And Eloise, your cousin, is going to see about having the dinner
ready; and Theresa Stanfield is in that too; I think they have got the
most fun; but nobody is doing anything yet. It's too hot. Are you hot,
Daisy?"
"Not very."
"O Daisy," said Ella Stanfield, "couldn't _we_ fish?"
"There are so many boys--" said Daisy; "I do not believe there will be
any fishing tackle for us."
"Can you fish, Daisy?" asked the doctor, who stood near, looking after
his gun.
"No, sir. I did catch a fish once--but it was only my line caught it."
"Not your hand at the end of the line?"
"My hand was not there. The line was lying on the bank and my hook in
the water."
"Oh! that was it!"
Away went the doctor with his gun, and the boys sped off with their
fishing rods. The heat was too great for anybody else to move.
Nevertheless, what are parties of pleasure for _but_ pleasure? they must
not let the whole day slip away with nothing done but lying in the shade
of the trees. There was a little island in the lake, well wooded like
its shores. It was proposed that the ladies' fishing party should row
over to the island, and there, under another shady grove, carry on their
designs against the pickerel. Daisy's wish was to go with that party in
the boat and watch their sport; especially as Mr. Randolph was the
leader and manager of it. She was not asked to go; there was no room
for the little people; so they stood on the shore and saw the
setting-off, and watched the bright dimples every stroke of the oars
made in the surface of the lake.
The people were pretty well scattered now. Nobody was left on the ground
but Mrs. Gary and Mrs. Fish, sitting under a tree at some distance,
talking; and Eloise and Theresa, who were charged to superintend the
laying of the cloth. Having nothing particular to do, the three children
became hangers-on, to watch how this business would be conducted; ready
to help if they got a chance.
It was found a difficult business to arrange places for so many people
on the grass; and the girls finally and wisely gave it up. They
determined to set out the eatables only, on a tablecloth spread to
receive them; but to let everybody eat where he felt disposed, or where
he could find the best bit of shade. Shade was the best thing that day,
Theresa Stanfield declared. But the first thing of all was to light a
fire; for coffee must be boiled, and tea made. The fire was not a
troublesome thing to have, for dead wood was in plenty for the
gathering. James and Logan, who had come to the scene of action, soon
had that going; and the children forgot that it was hot, in the beauty
and the novelty of the thing, and laughed at Theresa's red cheeks as she
stooped over the coals with her coffee-pot. About coffee Daisy was
ignorant. But tea had been made in her behalf by Juanita too many times
for her not to have the whole proceeding fixed in her memory.
"O Eloise, you must not make that _tea_ now!" she exclaimed.
"Mustn't I!"
"No. It will be spoiled."
"Some other things have had the same fate," said Eloise.
"It will not be good for anything, Eloise," Daisy persisted gently. "It
should not be made but just before you want it--just a few minutes."
"You are wise, Daisy," returned her cousin. "I do not know so much as
you do, you see."
Daisy fell back a little. Eloise and Theresa went to unpacking the
hampers; and James, acting under their direction, carried and placed the
various articles they took out, placed and replaced; for as new and
unlooked-for additions were made to the stock of viands, the arrangement
of those already on the tablecloth had to be varied. There was a
wonderful supply; for a hamper had come from every house that had sent
members to the party.
"What shall we do with it all?" said Eloise.
"Find out what people like--or are expected to like. Just look at the
cold chickens! and the ham! I am so thankful for that red lobster, to
make a variety. There are three boxes of sardines--and what is that?"
"Anchovy paste."
"Well!--and look at the other things! We want an army to eat them. There
is a dog, to begin with."
Theresa said it with comical coolness; but Eloise screamed, as a little
spaniel was perceived to be snuffing round the tablecloth.
"It's Ransom's dog! Run, Daisy, run, and keep him off. Just stay there
and keep watch of him, or he'll be all over everything. Daisy, run!"
Daisy left the hampers, and walked, or indeed obeyed orders and ran, to
where the little spaniel was threatening a rout among the whole army of
cold chickens. Daisy called him off, and then stood by to take care of
him. It was very amusing to see Eloise and Theresa unpack the hampers;
and Ella and Nora, finding it so, made no move to join Daisy in her
distant watch. The men were busy running to and fro with the unpacked
eatables, and keeping up the fire, and setting piles of plates
everywhere, and laying glasses all round the tablecloth--for they would
not stand up--and putting wine in coolers, that is to say, in pails of
ice water. Daisy felt alone again, left out of the play. She looked at
Nora and Ella in the distance--that is, just far enough away to be out
of her society, eagerly standing over the hampers; and for a moment felt
not very well pleased, either with them or her cousin Eloise. But then
she remembered that she was tired, and sat down with her back against a
tree; resolved to take all things patiently, if she could; and she very
soon found enough to do, and amusing enough, in ordering the arrangement
of the dishes on the tablecloth. Logan was sure to set a thing down in
the wrong place, if he set it anywhere; and even James was confused in
such a very novel state of his department. Daisy found exercise for all
her wisdom, and full content came with full employment, naturally.
You can make pleasure out of almost anything, if you set about it. In
the intervals she rested, and watched the distant figures of the fishing
party on the island; and gladdened herself with the beauty and the sweet
air of the wood, and the flecks of sunshine and moving shadow on the
ground beneath the trees. I am afraid nobody else found the air sweet,
unless it were the doctor. He was hardy, and besides had a philosophical
way of looking at things. Daisy watched for his coming, afraid that he
might wander off beyond luncheon time; but he did not come. The three
boys, however, a less welcome sight, had recollected that there was
something forward besides fishing; and came strolling along through the
trees towards the tablecloth. Preston was stopped to speak to his
mother; the other two approached Daisy.
"Hello!" said Ransom, "here we are! now where's everybody else? I'm
furious as a lion."
"A hungry lion," said Alexander Fish. "I wish we had got some fish for
the people to cook. That's fun. I tell you, Ransom, it's fun to see the
work they make with it."
"Fish is no count, _I_ think," said Ransom. "It's only good to catch. I
can stand a lobster salad, though. But I can't stand long without
something. What's the use of waiting? They aren't coming back yonder
till night. They haven't stirred yet."
Ransom's eyes indicated the party on the island. And acting upon his
announced opinion, Ransom, paid his respects in a practical form, not to
cold chicken and bread, but to a dish of cream cakes which stood
conveniently near. And having eaten one, in three mouthfuls, he
stretched out his hand and took another. Happily then some meringues
attracted his attention; and he stood with a cream cake in one hand and
a meringue in the other, taking them alternately or both together. The
meringues began to disappear fast. Daisy warned him that the only dish
of those delicacies in all the entertainment was the one into which he
was making such inroads. Ransom paid her no heed and helped himself to
another.
"Ransom, that is not fair," said his sister. "There are no more but
those, and you will have them all gone. Just look, now, how the dish
looks!"
"How the dish looks!" said Ransom mockingly. "None of your business."
"It is not right. Don't Ransom!" Daisy said, as his hand was extended
for a fourth meringue.
"Want 'em for yourself?" said Ransom sneeringly. "I say,
Alexander--here's a game! Here's something just fit for a man's luncheon
in a summer day--something nice and light and nourishing. Here's a lark
pie--I know what it is, for I saw Joanna making it. Now we'll have this
and be off."
"You must not, Ransom," Daisy urged anxiously. But Ransom seized the pie
from its place and proceeded to cut into it, seeing that nobody was near
to hinder him.
"Ransom, you ought not to do it," pleaded Daisy. "You ought to wait your
turn. You are worse than Fido."
"Am I?" said Ransom fiercely. "Take that! Mind your own affairs, and
let mine alone. You are not queen here yet, if you think you are."
A tolerably smart box on the ear was the accompaniment to this speech.
Nobody was near. Alexander, after joining his friend in a meringue or
two with a cream cake, not feeling quite comfortable in the connection,
had moved off. So did Ransom now, but he carried his pie with him and
called the other two boys to bear him company in making lunch of it.
Preston was much too gentlemanly a fellow to take part even of a lark
pie in such circumstances; he walked off in disdain, leaving Ransom and
Alexander to do what they liked. And they liked the pie so well that I
am bound to say nothing of it remained very soon excepting the dish.
Even the bones were swallowed by Fido.
Daisy was left alone under the tree with her occupation gone; for Fido
was after the lark bones. Her ear rang a few minutes from the
application of Ransom's hand; but that effect had passed off long before
Daisy's mind was quieted. For gentle as she was, Daisy was a little lady
who had a very deep and particular sense of personal dignity; she felt
wronged as well as hurt. Her father and mother never indulged in that
method of punishment; and if they had, Ransom's hand was certainly not
another one to inflict it.
Daisy was quite as much stung by the insult as by the unkindness; but
she felt both. She felt both so much that she was greatly discomposed.
Her watch over the feast was entirely forgotten; luckily Fido had gone
off with his master, and chickens were no longer in immediate danger.
Daisy rubbed away first one tear and then another, feeling a sort of
bitter fire hot at her heart; and then she began to be dissatisfied at
finding herself so angry. This would not do; anger was something she had
no business with; how could she carry her Lord's message, or do anything
to serve him, in such a temper? It would not do; but there it was,
offended dignity and pride, hot at her heart. Nobody would have thought
perhaps that Daisy was proud; but you never can tell what is in a
person's heart till it is tried; and then the kinds of pride are
various. It does not follow because you have none of one sort that you
have not plenty of another sort. However, finding this fire at her heart
quite too much for her to manage, Daisy went away from her
watching-place; crept away among the trees without any one's observing
her; till she had put some distance between her and the party, and found
a further shelter from them in a big moss-grown rock and large tree.
There was a bed of moss, soft and brown, on the other side of the rock;
and there Daisy fell down on her knees and began to remember--"Thou
therefore endure hardship, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ."
CHAPTER V.
Certainly the sun was very hot that day. The fishers on the island found
it so, notwithstanding that they had sought out every one for himself
the shadiest, freshest nook that could be found. Nothing was fresh; and
if the trees did hinder the sunshine from falling on some parts of the
ground, they kept off none of it from the water; and the glare from that
was said to be unendurable. Even where there was not much glare strictly
speaking; people were not particular in their speech that day. At last
they voted that holding lines in the water was of no use; fish could not
be expected to leave their cool depths below to seek the sunny regions
near the surface of the water; "they would be fools if they did," one of
the ladies remarked. Fish never were supposed to be very wise creatures,
Mr. Sandford informed her; but nevertheless, it was resolved not to
reckon upon their want of wisdom at this time, but to put up and go back
to shore, and try what cold chicken would do. So just about the hour
when the sun's work for the day verges towards the hottest, the little
boat was seen again stealing over the sunny surface of the lake, back to
where the tablecloth lay spread for the tired people.
A little while before it reached that place, Dr. Sandford arrived upon
the scene. He locked a little warm in the face; but his white shooting
coat did not seem less affected by the state of the weather than the
doctor's temper. Mrs. Gary and Mrs. Fish he found sunk in somnolency at
the foot of the tree where they had been talking. The young ladies were
sitting by the emptied hampers, deep in confab. The boys and Fido, over
against the outspread feast, were arranging fishing tackle, and watching
the return of the boat; with eyes of anticipation. To them came the
doctor.
"Where is your sister, Ransom?"
"I don't know." The tone meant, I don't care.
"I do not see her anywhere."
"No more do I," said Ransom, without raising his eyes from his fishing
line.
"Where is she?"
"I told you, I don't know."
"Did she go with the fishing party?"
"No sir; she was here when we came," Alexander Fish spoke up.
"Yes, I remember she was here," said Preston. "I remember seeing her.
She cannot be far off. It's hot enough to keep people from straying
far."
The doctor, being not absolutely satisfied with this reasoning, and
having nothing better to do, occupied himself with a search after the
missing Daisy. It lasted some time, and he was beginning to be not quite
easy in his mind; when, being a sportsman, his eye detected something at
a distance which was not moss nor stone. In two minutes the doctor came
up with it. It was Daisy, fast asleep on her moss bed behind the rock.
Her head lay on her arm which was curled up under it; and profound
slumber had left the little pale face as serene as usual. The doctor was
warm by this time. He sat down on the moss beside her; and putting his
arm under Daisy's shoulders lifted her up, by way of waking her,
speaking to her at the same moment. But to his amusement, Daisy no
sooner got her eyes well open than she shook herself free of him, and
sat as demure as possible opposite to him on the moss.
"Dr. Sandford!--I believe--I got asleep," she said in a bewildered kind
of way.
"How did you get _here_, Daisy?"
"I came here, sir."
"What for did you come here?"
Daisy looked troubled; glanced at the doctors face, and then rested her
head on her hand.
"Who has been vexing you now?" said he at haphazard.
"I am not vexed," said Daisy in the gentlest of all possible tones.
"Tired?"
"I think I am tired."
"Honour bright, Daisy!--has not some one been vexing you?"
"I ought not to have been vexed," said Daisy slowly.
"I will wager that you are wrong there, and that you ought to have been
vexed. Who was it, Daisy?"
"Never mind, please, Dr. Sandford! It is no matter at all now."
She put her little hand confidingly in the doctor's as she spoke and
looked very earnest. He could not resist her.
"I wish I had come sooner," he said. "I shall be suspicious of
everybody, Daisy. Come--you and I must go to dinner, or there will be a
hue and cry after us."
Indeed by this time the whole party were gathered, and in impatient
expectation that the dinner would make up to them in some degree for the
various disappointments of the morning. All were gathered and had
arranged themselves conveniently upon the grass, around the feast which
was spread out upon the tablecloth, before anybody knew that two of
their number were wanting. The cry was just raised, "Where is the
doctor?"--when the doctor hove in sight with Daisy by his side.
Everybody was placed already; and it was very natural that the doctor
keeping hold of Daisy's hand, led her with him to the spot that seemed
to be left for his occupancy, and seated her there beside him. On the
other side of Daisy was Mrs. Stanfield. She was very well satisfied with
this arrangement, seeing that her father was surrounded by people and
busy besides; and that Nora and Ella were with Alexander and Ransom.
What a gay tableful they were! all talking and laughing, though
everybody declared himself exceeded by the heat and bored by the
fishing, and generally tired of everything but eating and drinking. But
iced champagne was now at the parched lips, and boned turkey and jellied
ham were waiting attention, and a good time had come. It was some while,
of course, before Daisy could be served. She waited, feeling very happy
and amused; for a party of people taking a cold dinner out of doors do
not look nor act exactly like the same people taking a hot dinner in the
house. Daisy never dreamed that anybody was noticing _her_. She had a
disagreeable surprise.
"Daisy," said Mrs. Randolph from a little distance, and across several
people,--"Daisy, what did you do that for?"
"Mamma!"--said Daisy. "What, mamma?"
"Have you a headache?"
"O no, mamma."
"What did you put up your hand to your brow for?"
"Mamma?"--said Daisy, very much bewildered. For she knew nothing was the
matter, and she could not guess what her mother was thinking of.
Moreover, somehow, Mrs. Randolph's words or manner had acted to stop the
voices of all the company in her neighbourhood; and everybody was
waiting and looking to see what the subject of interest might be. Mrs.
Randolph's words could come now with their usual calm distinctness; and
Daisy's answers, no matter how softly spoken, could be well heard. In a
good deal of wonder Daisy repeated, "Mamma?"
"You put up your hand and sat with your eyes covered--did you not,
just now?"
"Yes, mamma."--No need to bid anybody look and listen now; the rosy
flush that had spread itself all over Daisy's pale cheeks sufficiently
aroused curiosity.
"I notice that you do so before every meal--is it not the case?"
"Yes, mamma."
Dr. Sandford could hear the caught breath. He did not look, except by a
glance, but he listened.
"What does that mean, Daisy?"
"Mamma?"--said the child in distress.
"I ask you, what that means? what is it for?"
"Mamma--may I come round there and speak to you?"
"Certainly not. Sit still in your place and answer."
But Daisy was silent, very flushed.
"Do you hear, Daisy? what does that action mean? I wish to know."
"Mamma, may I speak to you in private and tell you?"
"Are you ashamed of it? are you ashamed to tell me?"
"No, mamma."
"Then do it at once."
But everybody waited in vain to hear the answer. It did not come.
"I shall not ask you again, Daisy."
"Mamma," said the child low and modestly, but with steadiness,--"I was
praying."
"Praying! were you! Why do you choose that particular time for your
private devotions?"
It was almost too much. The tears started in Daisy's eyes; but presently
she answered,--"Because God is good to us, mamma."
"He is always good," said Mrs. Randolph. "That is a very silly practice
of yours, Daisy, and very unbecoming. There is a proper way of doing
everything."
The lady's manner said that the subject was dismissed, and her guests
returned to their ordinary conversation. Except the doctor and Daisy.
She was overwhelmed, and he was gravely unsocial.
Was it silly?--that bound her heart had made up to the feet of her King?
That joyful thanksgiving, and expression of love, and pledge of
obedience, and prayer for help? It was something better than the meal
often to Daisy; something sweeter and happier. Was it silly? and must
she do so no more except when she was alone?
Daisy had quite forgotten that eating and drinking was part of the
present matter in hand, when Dr. Sandford softly asked her what she
would like to have. Daisy said anything he pleased; not caring herself,
and indeed in too much confusion of mind yet to know or think about the
business. And her appetite was gone. Dr. Sandford provided for her with
kind care, what she liked too; but nothing was good to Daisy. She broke
bread and swallowed milk mechanically; the more substantial food she
refused utterly. Bread and milk and grapes were Daisy's dinner.
"It's good to be somebody's favourite," Ransom said to her after the
meal was over. "Nobody got any grapes but you."
"Nobody? Why Ransom, I thought everybody had them."
"_I_ didn't,--nor Preston, nor Alexander--not a berry; and Nora and Ella
Stanfield didn't. You are the favourite."
"O Nora," said Daisy, "didn't you have any grapes? I'm sorry!"
"I had peaches," said Nora. "I like peaches a great deal the best.
Daisy, what shall we do now?"
"Suppose we sit down and have a talk."
"A talk?" said Nora. "Suppose we have a game of hide and seek? It's such
a good place."
"Or forfeits?" said Ella. "It is too hot to play hide and seek."
"I don't think it is hot," said Nora. "The sun don't shine now."
"Daisy, don't you want to go out with me in the boat?" said Preston
coming up. "We'll get in the shade, and see if you can catch a pickerel
as well as you did a trout."
"O I should like that!" said Daisy eagerly. She saw the kindness of
Preston's meaning. He wanted to make her forget her vexations.
"And may we go too?" Nora asked.
"Certainly; but Daisy and I are going to do the fishing. You must be
content to look on. We will go round to the other side of the island,
Daisy; it is pretty there, I know. And we shall have a better chance for
the pickerel, for the sun is gone under a cloud."
So the sun had; but at that very moment the cloud passed off and the
brilliant hot beams fell with what seemed renewed brilliancy on the
lake, and on all the ground which they could touch.
"It will go under again," said Preston. "We do not mind trifles. Come,
Daisy."
"Daisy, you must not go," said Dr. Sandford looking round. He was just
moving away to see some one else, and was gone in a minute.
"The doctor is all very well when one is sick," said Preston; "but I
never heard he had a right to command people when they are well. Daisy,
we will not mind him."
"I must," said Daisy, meekly. "But you can go without me, if you want
to."
"Nonsense, dear little Daisy! you are not obliged to do what _everybody_
says," her cousin urged. "Dr. Sandford has no more business to say what
you shall do than what I shall do. I will not let him rule you so. Come!
we will go try for the pickerel. Go, Nora and Ella, run away with the
baskets to the boat. Come, Daisy, come!"
"No, Preston, I cannot."
"Because of what that stupid man says? or don't you want to go!"
"I would like to go very much, thank you, Preston."
"Then you shall!"
"No. I cannot."
"Daisy, you might as well obey me as Dr. Sandford."
"I do not think so."
"Nora and Ella are going. You will be left alone."
"I hope you will catch some pickerel," said Daisy steadily.
But Preston was vexed. He did not like it that his word should not have
as much weight with his little cousin as any other person's, after her
father and mother. Like other boys, and men, for the most part, he was
fond of having his own way even in little things; though he sought it in
a polite fashion. And Daisy was very fond of him, and always followed
his lead; but now he could not move her. He went off at a bound, and
soon was out upon the water, with the girls and Alexander and Ransom
also who had joined him.
Daisy would have liked the shelter of her mossy hiding-place again. She
stood in the shade of a tree looking after the boat; feeling very much
left alone and greatly disposed to have a good crying time; but that was
not her way of meeting trouble. What a strange day of pleasure this
Silver Lake business had turned out! Yet Daisy had enjoyed many things
in it; but her mother's attack upon her at luncheon had sobered her
completely. It was such a sign of what she might expect. Daisy presently
fell to considering what she should do; and then remembered her old
refuge, prayer; and then concluded that she was a very happy little girl
after all. And instead of being hurt that Nora had been with her so
little that day, it was very natural, Daisy said to herself. Of course,
Nora wanted to go in the boat with Preston after fish; it was too good
an opportunity to be lost; and of course she had liked to walk in the
morning with the larger and gayer party. It was all right, Daisy
decided, although not what she herself would have done in the
circumstances. Would her note to her father have been reckoned "silly"
too? Very likely. Daisy turned her wistful eyes to where he was; sitting
in a group of ladies and gentlemen, talking. Daisy could not go to him.
Further along, Mrs. Gary was fighting the heat under a tree by herself.
No attraction there. Still further--the doctor was standing talking to
the two young ladies. As Daisy looked, he quitted them and came towards
her.
"Have I spoiled all your pleasure, Daisy?"
"No, sir."
"Are you angry with me?"
The answer this time was given with such an affectionate bright smile
that the doctor must have been hard not to feel it.
"You do not seem to have much pleasure on hand just now," said he;
"would you like to take a little walk with me, and see if we can find
any wonderful things?"
Daisy's face was quite answer enough, it was so full of content. The
doctor had no intention to tire her; be strolled along the borders of
the lake, which was wild and lovely all the more as they got further
away from the pic-nic ground. Firs and oaks stood thick all along, with
many other trees also; the ground was carpeted with layers of moss;
great rocks rose up by the water's edge, grey and brown with lichens. It
was not so hot now. The sun's glare was shielded off. On a mossy carpet
beside the water's edge the doctor and Daisy sat down. Undoubtedly the
doctor had never taken so much trouble with a child before; but Daisy
was a study to him.
"We do not find the wonderful things, Daisy," he remarked, throwing
himself back upon the moss with his hands under his head. His cap fell
off; his blue eyes looked at her with a sort of contented laziness;
never sleepily. Daisy smiled at him.
"I do," she said.
"You do! What have you found!"
"I think everything is wonderful."
"A profound truth," said the doctor; "but you are very young to find it
out. Instance, Daisy."
"But you want to go to sleep, sir."
"How dare you say so? No, I don't. I want to have a talk with you about
something wonderful."
Daisy thought he looked a little sleepy, for his eyelids drooped well
over his eyes; nevertheless the eyes saw keenly enough the start of
pleasure into hers. And they had seen the pale, subdued look of the face
that it had worn before. Nevertheless, in spite of that start, Daisy
remained as quiet as a mouse, looking at him.
"Don't you think I can talk while I am enjoying myself in this fashion?"
said the doctor.
"I think you can talk any way," said Daisy; "but you _look_ a great deal
more like sleeping, sir."
"None of that. Go on, Daisy. Only do not say anything about the sun, now
that it has gone under a cloud. Let us forget it for a little while."
"What shall I take, then?"
"I don't care. Something green and refreshing."
Daisy looked around her. On every side she saw things that she had no
doubt would be very interesting to talk about; she did not know which to
choose. There were the trees; the firs and hemlocks, and the oaks and
maples, growing thick on every hand. No doubt those beautiful structures
had uses and characters of wonder; she had a great mind to ask the
doctor to tell her about them. But the great boulder beside which they
were hid from view, divided her attention; it was very large, and
rounded off on all sides, lying quietly on the ground; and Daisy was
curious to know how it came to be so grown over with green things;
mosses and ferns draped it all over; how could they grow on the bare
rock?
"Well, Daisy?" said her friend, watching how Daisy's countenance woke up
from its subdued expression.
"Dr. Sandford, how could these things grow on the rock? these green
things?"
"What green things?"
"Why, ever so many sorts. Here is moss, a great deal of it, of different
kinds; and there is beautiful brake at the top, like plumes of feathers.
How can they grow there?"
"Why not?"
"I thought everything wanted some earth to grow in."
"Have they none?"
"I don't know. I thought not. They must have very little indeed, Dr.
Sandford."
"Very little will do, I suppose."
"But I do not see how _any_ earth got there," said Daisy. "It was only a
bare rock at first, of course."
"At first," repeated the doctor. "Well, Daisy, I suppose it was no more.
But there is something else growing there, which you have not spoken
of."
"Is there?" said Daisy. "I do not see anything else."
"Pardon me--you do see it."
"Then I do not know what it is," said Daisy laughing. Absolutely, the
sober, sober little face had forgotten its care, and the eyes were
alight with intelligence and curiosity, and the lips were unbent in good
honest laughter. The doctor raised himself up to a sitting posture.
"What do you call those grey and brown patches of colour that hide your
rock all over?"
"Grey and brown?" said Daisy wistfully--"those are just the colours of
the rock, aren't they?"
"No. Look close."
"Why, Dr. Sandford, what is it? It is not the rock--some of it is
not--but here is a spot of yellow that is nothing else, I think."
"You must learn not to trust your eyes, Daisy. That is something that
grows; it is not rock; it is a vegetable. If I had my pocket lens here
I would shew you; but I am afraid--yes, I have left it at home."
"Why it is!" cried Daisy. "I can see now--it is _not_ rock. What is it,
Dr. Sandford?"
"Lichen."
"What is that, sir?"
"It is one of the lowest forms of vegetable life. It is the first dress
the rocks wear, Daisy."
"But what does it live on?"
"Air and water, I suppose."
"I never knew that was a vegetable," said Daisy musingly. "I thought it
was the colour of the rock."
"That goes to prepare soil for the mosses, Daisy."
"O how, Dr. Sandford?"
"In time the surface of the rock is crumbled a little by its action;
then its own decay furnishes a very little addition to that. In
favourable situations a stray oak leaf or two falls and lies there, and
also decays, and by and by there is a little coating of soil or a little
lodgment of it in a crevice or cavity, enough for the flying spores of
some moss to take root and find home."
"And then the moss decays and makes soil for the ferns?"
"I suppose so."
Daisy stood looking with a countenance of delighted intelligence at the
great boulder, which was now to her a representative and witness of
natural processes she had had no knowledge of before. The mosses, the
brakes, the lichen, had all gained new beauty and interest in her eyes.
The doctor watched her and then scrambled up to his feet and came to her
side.
"Look here, Daisy," said he, stooping down at the foot of the rock and
shewing her where tufts of a delicate little green plant clustered,
bearing little umbrella-like heads on tiny shafts of handles.
"What is that Dr. Sandford?"
"Something wonderful."
"Is it? It is pretty. What is it, sir?"
[Illustration]
"It is a plant somewhere between the mosses and the lichens in its
character--it is one of the liverworts, and they are some of the first
plants to go in advance of superior vegetation. This is called
_Marchantia_."
"And is it wonderful, Dr. Sandford?"
"If I could shew it to you, you would think so. Look here, Daisy--on the
surface of this leaf do you see little raised spots here and there?"
"Yes, I see them."
"Those are, when they are finished, little baskets."
"Baskets?" exclaimed Daisy delightedly. "I can't see anything like a
basket now."
"No, it is too small for you to see; you must take it on my word, who
have seen it. They are baskets, and such baskets as you never dreamed
of. The shape is elegant, and round the edge, Daisy, they are cut into a
fringe of teeth, and each tooth is cut again into teeth, making a fringe
around _its_ tiny edge."
"I wish I could see it," said Daisy.
"Now if you were my little sister, and lived with me, I could shew you
these things in the evenings."
Daisy responded to this with a very grateful and somewhat wistful smile,
but immediately went on with the business in hand.
"Do these little baskets hold anything, Dr. Sandford"
"Yes. Baskets are always made to hold something."
"What do they hold?"
"They hold what are called _spores_; that is, little bits of things
which, whenever they get a chance, begin to grow and make new plants."
"Seeds?" said Daisy.
"They answer the purpose of seeds."
"How do they get out of the basket? do the winds blow them out?"
"Or the rain washes them out. If they lie long enough in the basket,
they will take root there, and then there is a new plant seen growing
out of the old one."
"How wonderful it is!" said Daisy.
"There is another wonder about it. It does not matter which way these
little spores lie on the ground or in the basket; but the side that
happens to be exposed to the light, after a time, prepares itself to
expand into the surface of a frond, while the dark side sends down a
tiny root."
"And it does not matter which side lies uppermost?"
"No, not in the beginning."
"What is a _frond_, Dr. Sandford?"
"This sort of seed-bearing leaf is called so."
"How pretty it is!" said Daisy. "What are these little things like
umbrellas?"
"These carry the real seed vessels of the plant."
"Other seeds. Dr. Sandford, is _everything_ wonderful?"
"What do you think about it?"
"I do not know but a very little," said Daisy; "but I never should have
thought this little green moss--or what did you say it was?"
"Liverwort. Its name is Marchantia."
"This liverwort; I never should have supposed it was anything but
pretty, and of course good for something; but now I never heard anything
so wonderful."
"More than the sun?" said Dr. Sandford smiling.
"It is more surprising, I think," said Daisy.
"Pray, what makes you conclude so securely that this little Marchantia
is _good for something_?"
Daisy gave him a quick look of wisdom and suspicion mingled. The doctor
was getting a very good amusement himself, and quite entered into the
matter. He waited for Daisy's answer. It came diplomatically.
"_Isn't_ everything good for something, sir?"
"'Pon my word, I don't know," said the doctor. "My enquiry was for the
grounds of your opinion, Daisy."
"It was not an opinion. I do not think I am old enough to have an
opinion."
"What was it, Daisy?"
The doctor was still crouching down by the side of the rock examining
carelessly whatever he found there. Daisy looked at him and waited, and
felt at last that good manners required her to speak.
"You said, sir, that baskets were made to hold something."
"So your remark was an inference from mine?"
"No, sir."
"Go on, Daisy."
"I only said it, sir, because I knew it was true."
There was an odd contrast between the extreme modesty of Daisy's manner
and the positiveness of her words.
"It is said to be a great philosophical truth, Daisy; but what I want to
know is how you, not being a philosopher, have got such firm hold of
it?"
He faced Daisy now, and she gave way as usual before the searching blue
eyes. One soft look, and her eyes fell away.
"I only thought it. Dr. Sandford, because in the beginning--when God had
made everything--the Bible says he saw that it was all good."
"Daisy, how came you to be such a lover of the Bible?"
Daisy did not speak at once, and when she did it was a departure from
the subject.
"Dr. Sandford, I felt a drop of rain on my face!"
"And here is another," said the doctor getting up. "This is what I have
expected all day. Come, Daisy--you must be off in your chaise-a-porteurs
without delay."
"But Nora, and Ella, and the boys!--they are away off on the lake."
"They will scuttle home now," said the doctor, "but I have nothing to do
with them. You are my business, Daisy."
Accordingly he carried her back to the lunching place, not indeed in his
arms, but with a strong hand that made her progress over the stones and
moss very rapid, and that gave her a great flying leap whenever occasion
was, over any obstacle that happened to be in the way. There was need
enough for haste. The light veil of haze that had seemed to curtain off
the sunlight so happily from the lake and the party, proved now to have
been only the advancing soft border of an immense thick cloud coming up
from the west. No light veil now; a deep, dark covering was over the
face of the sky, without break or fold; the drop or two of rain that had
been felt were merely the outriders of an approaching storm. Low
threatening, distant mutterings of thunder from behind the mountains,
told the party what they might expect before long.
There was sudden confusion. Nobody wanted to be out in the storm, and to
avoid it seemed a difficult problem. Hastily the ladies caught up their
scarfs and bags, and set off upon a scattering flight through the woods
to the shore, those who were nearest or first ready not stopping to wait
for the others. Quickly the luncheon ground was deserted; fast the blue
and white flutter of muslins disappeared in the enveloping woods;
hastily the remainder of the packing went on to get the hampers again in
readiness to move. In the midst of all this, who was to carry Daisy's
chair?
"You say there is a house somewhere on the way," said Mr. Randolph to
the doctor. "If you will go forward with Daisy at once, I will stay to
look after those children in the boat. They are coming now as fast as
they can."
"Can you carry my gun?"
"Certainly. Doctor, I will take that office, if you will stay behind
till the boat gets to land."
"Thank you--it is better arranged the other way. The storm will be upon
us before the ladies get to the shore, I fear."
"Then they had better take the other route."
Mr. Randolph in haste despatched one of the men to recall the fleeing
members of the party, and bring them, round by the other road to the
house. But before that, the doctor had put Daisy in her chair, and with
Logan at the other end of it had set off to reach shelter. It grew very
dark; and it was sultrily still in the woods. Not a leaf trembled on its
stem. The steps of the two chair-bearers sounded ominously in the entire
hush of everything. The gloom still deepened. The doctor and Logan with
swift, steady strides carried the chair along at a goodly rate; not as
it had come in the morning. In the midst of this, and after it had gone
on some time in silence, Daisy twisted herself round to look at the
doctor and give him a smile.
"You do not seem concerned, Daisy, in the view of getting wet?"
"Why no," said Daisy twisting round, again, "it is nice. I am only sorry
for the people who are so frightened."
"What is nice? getting wet?"
"O no," said Daisy. "Maybe I shall not get wet--you go so fast."
But at this moment there came a nearer growl of thunder, and the leaves
in the tops of the trees rustled as if a breath had passed over them.
Then were still.
"Can you mend your pace, Logan?" said the doctor.
"Ay, sir!"--came in the deep, cheery utterance of Logan's Scotch voice.
"Hold fast, Daisy"--said the doctor; and the two chair-bearers changed
their pace for a swinging trot. It was needful to hold on now indeed,
for this gait jolted the chair a good deal; but it got over the ground,
and Daisy found it excessively amusing. They passed the thick-standing
tree stems in quick succession now; the rocks uprising from the side of
the path were left behind one after another; they reached the sharp bend
in the road; and keeping up the swinging trot with a steadiness which
shewed good wind on the part of both the chair-bearers, at last the
little house where Sam had been left hove in view. Time it was; full
time. One and another sough of the wind had bowed the tree-tops with a
token of what was coming; one and another bright flash of lightning had
illumined the woody wilderness; and now just as the chair stopped, drops
began to fall which seemed as large as cherry-stones, mingled with hail
a good deal larger. Their patter sounded on the leaves a minute or two;
then ceased.
"That will do, Logan," said the doctor. "Bring the chair in under
shelter if you can; and come in yourself. This will be a shower." And
he led Daisy into the house.
If ever you saw a dark-looking place, that was the room into which the
house door admitted them. Two little windows seemed at this instant to
let in the darkness rather than the light; they were not very clean,
besides being small. A description which Daisy would have said applied
to the whole room. She stood still in the middle of the floor, not
seeing any place to sit down, that she could make up her mind to take.
The doctor went to the window. Logan took a chair. Sam was sitting
disconsolately in a corner. It was hard to say to what class of people
the house belonged; poor people they were of course; and things looked
as if they were simply living there because too poor to live anywhere
else. A slatternly woman stared at the intruders; a dirty child crawled
over the hearth. Daisy could not endure to touch anything, except with
the soles of her shoes. So she stood upright in the middle of the floor;
till the doctor turned round.
"Daisy!--are you going to stand there till the shower is over?"
"Yes, sir,"--Daisy answered patiently. A smile curled the doctor's lips.
He opened the door and lifted in the chair with its long poles, which
indeed half filled the little room; but Daisy sat down. The woman looked
on in astonishment.
"Be she weakly, like?" she asked at length of the doctor.
"Has been--" he answered.
"And what be that thing for?"
"It is for going up and down mountains."
"Have you come from the mountings!" she asked in great surprise. The
doctor was in for it. He was obliged to explain. Meanwhile the darkness
continued and the rain did not yet fall. A breath of wind now and then
brushed heavily past the house, and sunk into silence. The minutes
passed.
"It will be a happiness if they get here before it begins," said Dr.
Sandford; "it will come when it comes!"
"Be there _more_ comin'?" said the woman.
"A houseful. We are only the beginning."
She moved about now with somewhat of anxiety to get sundry things out of
the way, which yet there seemed no other place for; a frying pan was set
up in a corner; a broom took position by the fire place; a pail of water
was lifted on the table; and divers knives and forks and platters
hustled into a chimney cupboard. Little room enough when all was done.
At last the woman caught up the sprawling baby and sat down with it
opposite the broom, on the other side the fire, in one of the three
chairs the place contained. Sam had another. Logan was on a box. The
woman's eyes said, "Now I am ready to see all that comes."
CHAPTER VI.
It was some time first, and the rain still did not fall. It was very
black, and flashes from distant lightning with mutterings of the thunder
were frequent and threatening; still no rain unless a few ominous drops.
At last voices and fluttering muslins came down the road; the flutter
came near, and in poured a stream of gay people at the door of the poor
little room. Gay as to their dress and attire, that is; for gayety was
not to be found at present in their words and behaviour. The woman in
the chimney corner hugged up closer her dirty baby with the delight of
so unwonted a feast to her eyes.
"Is there nothing better than _this_ to be had?" said Mrs. Fish. And her
tone was indescribable.
"How long have we got to remain here, doctor?" said a more cheery voice.
"Mrs. Stanfield, until the rain has come, and gone."
"It would be better to be out in it," whispered Theresa to her mother.
"My love, there is no other shelter on this side the river."
"There will not be standing room for us all presently--" said Eloise
Gary.
Pretty nearly so; for when the second detachment of the party arrived,
in a minute more, people looked at each other across a throng of heads.
They got in; that was all. To sit down or to move much was out of the
question.
"Daisy, you can't have this big chair of yours in here," said Ransom in
an energetic whisper. "Don't you see there is no room for it?"
Daisy saw there was very little. She got up patiently and stood, though
feeling very tired; while her chair was got out of the door with a good
deal of difficulty.
"Are you tired, my darling?" said her father bending down to the pale
little face.
"A little, papa," said Daisy sighing.
No more words, but Mr. Randolph lifted Daisy in his arms and gave her a
resting place there. Daisy was afraid she was too heavy for him, but it
was very comfortable to sit there, with her arm on his shoulder. Her
face looked its content; the only face in which such an expression could
be seen at present; though the gentlemen took the thing coolly, and Mr.
Randolph and the two Sandfords looked as usual. But now the delayed
storm drew near. The thunder notified with every burst the fact that it
was coming speedily; the lightning became vivid and constant. A
premonitory sweep of the wind--and the clouds gave out their treasures
of rain and hail with tremendous fury. The lightning was terrible now,
and the darkness of the intervals between so great that the company
could scarcely see each other's faces. This was more than some of the
party had bargained for, and there was a degree of confusion. Screams
from a few of the ladies and exclamations of terror from others were
mixed now and then with words that sounded very like an oath to Daisy's
ear, though they were not spoken in levity. She bent her head round to
look in the face of the lady who had last used them, as if to assure
herself what was meant; and then her head went down on Mr. Randolph's
shoulder and her face was hidden.
"Daisy--" whispered her father.
"Yes, papa."
"Are you afraid?"
"No, papa--not for myself."
"What? Look up here, Daisy."
She lifted her face; it was wistful and troubled.
"Are you concerned about the storm, my darling?"
"No, papa; not myself."
"How then, Daisy?"
She shuddered. "Papa, I wish they would not scream so!"
"Why does that trouble _you_?" said Mr. Randolph smiling.
But Daisy's face was unutterably grave, as a new brilliant band of
forked lightning glittered outside the windows, and the burst of the
thunderbolt sounded as if at their very feet, making a renewal of the
same cries and exclamations.
"Why does it trouble you, Daisy?" said Mr. Randolph soothingly, feeling
the quiver of the child's frame.
"Papa," said Daisy with intense expression,--"they do not love
Jesus!"--And her head went down again to be hid on her father's
shoulder.
Mr. Randolph did nothing to bring it up again; and Daisy lay quite
still, while the storm raged in full fury, and the screams and
ejaculations of the ladies were joined now and then by a word of
impatience from one of the gentlemen, or a "Hech, sirs!" in Logan's
smothered Scotch brogue. Once Mr. Randolph felt Daisy's lips pressed
against his face, and then her other arm came round his neck and
nestling there closely she was after that as still as a mouse. The storm
lasted a long time. The lightning and thunder at last removed their
violence some distance off; then the wind and the rain did their part,
which they had not fully done before. And all the while the poor party
of pleasure sat or stood as thick as bees in a hive, in the miserable
shelter of the cottage. Miserable yet welcome. Very tired and impatient
the people became as they grew less frightened. Daisy had long been fast
asleep. The day waned and drew near its ending. When sunset was, nobody
could tell by the light; but that night was at hand was at last evident
from the darkness.
"Your arms must be weary, Mr. Randolph," said Dr. Sandford. "Let me
relieve you of your burden."
"I cannot let you do that."
"I will," said the doctor. "Daisy being my charge as well as yours,
gives me a right." And the transfer was actually made before Daisy was
aware of it. She waked up however, with a feeling of some change and a
doubt upon her mind as to what custody she was in; but she was not sure,
till the woman of the house lit a miserable dip candle, which threw a
light that mocked the darkness over the weary company. Daisy did not
like the arrangement at all.
"Dr. Sandford!" she exclaimed. "I shall tire you. Please put me on the
floor and let me stand."
"No--you cannot," said the doctor decidedly. "Be a good child, Daisy.
Lay your head down and go to sleep again."
And greatly to Daisy's astonishment the doctor's moustache brushed her
lip. Now Daisy had always thought to herself that she would never allow
anybody that wore a moustache to kiss her; here it was done, without
leave asked; and if the doctor was so independent of rules as that, she
thought she had best not provoke him. Besides, she remembered that her
father must be tired with carrying her so long; and moreover, if Dr.
Sandford liked her well enough to kiss her, maybe he would not care for
the trouble of holding her for a while. At any rate Daisy submitted
peaceably to the necessity; put her arm over the doctor's shoulder to
support herself and laid her head down; though not to sleep. She watched
everything that was going on now. What a roomful of weary and impatient
people they were! packed like cattle in a pen, for closeness; and how
the rain poured and beat outside the house! The shelter was something to
be thankful for, and yet how unthankful everybody looked. Some of the
gentlemen shewed calm fortitude under their trials; but the poor ladies'
chagrined faces said that days of pleasure were misnamed. Alexander Fish
had gone to sleep; Ransom looked cross; Preston as usual gentlemanly,
though bored. From one to another Daisy's eye roved. Nora and Ella were
sitting on the table; in full confab. Other people were sitting there
too; the table was full.
"The storm is slackening--" Mr. Randolph remarked to the doctor.
"It will be over in a little while more."
"What do you think of it, Daisy?" said her father noticing her look.
"Of what, papa?"
"Parties of pleasure in general."
"Papa,--I have had a very nice time."
"You have had a nice sleep," said her father laughing; "and that colours
your views of things. The rest of us have not had that advantage."
"Daisy, I am surprised to hear you say what you do," the doctor remarked
as Mr. Randolph turned away. He spoke softly.
"Why, sir?"
"I thought your day had not been altogether agreeable?"
"Do you think anything is apt to be _altogether_ agreeable, Dr.
Sandford?" Daisy said, with a demure waiving of the subject which was
worthy of much older years. The quaintness of this remark was infinite.
"What has been the agreeableness to-day, for instance?"
"O, a great deal; my ride in the chair,--that was nice! and all _our_
walk, and what you were telling me; and coming over the river--" Daisy
paused.
"And what do you think of being carried in the arms of gentlemen," said
Mrs. Gary, who had overheard a few words,--"while other little girls
have to get along as they can? as tired as you are, I dare say."
"I cannot help it, aunt Gary," said Daisy. But the remark served to
justify her view of things; for what had in truth been altogether
agreeable up to that minute was so no longer. Daisy was uneasy.
"Dr. Sandford," she whispered after a few moments,--"I am rested--I can
stand now. I am tiring you. Please set me down."
"No. Be quiet, Daisy," said her friend peremptorily. And as the little
head went down again obediently on his shoulder, he gave again a gentle
kiss to her lips. Daisy did not mind Mrs. Gary after that.
The storm slackened off now rapidly. The patter of the rain lessened and
grew still; a sweet reviving air blew in at the windows. Of course the
road was drenched with wet and every tree dripping; nevertheless the
journey must be made to the boats, and the poor ladies were even glad to
set out to undertake it. But it would not be an easy journey either, on
the whole. Some time before this the doctor had despatched Logan on an
errand. He now declared he must wait for his return; and desired Mr.
Randolph to go forward and help take care of the rest of the party and
have no concern about Daisy; he would keep her in charge.
"Shall I do that, Daisy?" said Mr. Randolph, fearing it might trouble
her. But Daisy said, "Yes, papa"--with no hesitation; and the plan was
acted upon. Gathering up their floating muslin dresses, tying
handkerchiefs over their heads, with shrinking and yet eager steps, one
by one they filed out at the door of the little hut. Just as the last
one went, Logan came; he had been to the boats and brought thence the
doctor's cloak, which, with more providence than the rest of the party
who were less used to travelling, he had taken the precaution to bring.
Now this, by the doctor's order, was spread over Daisy's chair, which
having been pushed out of doors, had got wet; she was placed in it
then, and the folds of the cloak brought well round and over her, so
that nothing could be more secure than she was from the wet with which
every leaf and bough was dripping overhead, and every foot of soil
loaded underneath. Dr. Sandford took one end of the poles and Logan the
other, and the last of the party they set forth. Why Dr. Sandford had
made this arrangement, was best known to himself. Perhaps he preferred
it to having Mrs. Fish on his arm, who was a very fine lady; perhaps he
preferred it to the attentions he might have had to pay to the younger
damsels of the party, who would all three have been on his hands at
once, very likely. At all events he did prefer to be one of the
chair-bearers, and Daisy was very glad of it.
The rest of the party were well in advance, out of sight and hearing.
Tramp, tramp, the steady regular footfall of her bearers, and the light
plashing of rain drops as they fell, and the stir of the wind in the
leaves, were all the sounds that Daisy heard. No rain fell now; on the
contrary the heaven was clear as a bell, and light enough came through
the woods to shew the way with comfortable certainty. Overhead the stars
were shining down with wonderful brilliancy, through the air which the
storm had cleansed from all vapours; the moon was coming up somewhere,
too. The smell of the trees and other green things was exceedingly sweet
after the rain; and the delicious soft air was very delicious after the
sultry day. Never in her life after did Daisy forget that night's work.
This ride from the cottage to the shore was something she enjoyed with
all her might. It was so wild and strange as well as sweet. Rocks and
tree trunks, and the turnings of the road had all such a mysterious new
look, different from what daylight shewed them; it was an endless
pleasure. Till the walk ended. It came out at last upon the shore of the
river and into the moonlight. High in the eastern sky the moon hung,
shedding her broad light down all over the river which crisped and
sparkled under it; and there by the water's edge the members of the
party of pleasure were huddled together preparing to embark. Over their
heads the sails of Mr. Randolph's boat stood up in the moonlight. The
doctor and Logan set down their burden and waited. The Fish's were
getting on board their little vessel, which was moved by oars alone.
"Mrs. Stanfield, you had better come with us," Mr. Randolph said. "There
is plenty of room. Your boat is too small. You would find it
unpleasantly rough in mid-channel."
"O, is it rough?" exclaimed the lady.
"For your little row-boat--I am afraid you would find it so. The wind
has roughened the water considerably, and it has not had time to get
quiet. Come with us, and we will all take supper together at Melbourne."
It was arranged so. The party were stowed away in the large sail-boat,
which held them all well enough; the children being happy at finding
themselves seated together.
"What are we waiting for?" said Mrs. Gary when all had been in their
places some minutes, and conversation was the only thing moving. "What
are we staying here for?"
"Sam."
"Where's Sam?"
"He is yonder--in our late place of shelter. James and Michael have gone
to fetch him with Daisy's chair."
"Sam! Why, he might have stayed there till to-morrow and no hurt. Have
we got to wait till the men go there and bring him back? We shall be
late at supper!"
"The river will be all the quieter, Mrs. Gary," said Mr. Randolph
mischievously.
"The river? You don't mean to say it is not quiet?"
"It was not, quiet a while ago, I assure you."
"Well, I do think, if ever there was a misnamed thing, it is a party of
pleasure," said the lady disconsolately.
"They are very pleasant when they are over, sister Gary," said Mr.
Randolph.
"Daisy," Nora whispered, "are you afraid?"
"No."
"Your father says it is rough."
"He knows how to manage the boat," said Daisy.
"It isn't rough, I don't believe," said Ella Stanfield. "It isn't rough
now."
"I wish we were at the other side," said Nora.
"O Nora, I think it is nice," said Daisy. "How bright the moonlight is!
Look--all over the river there is a broad strip. I hope we shall sail
along just in that strip. Isn't it wonderful, Nora?"
"No. What?" said Nora.
"That there should be something like a looking-glass up in the sky to
catch the sunlight and reflect it down to us when we cannot see the sun
itself."
"What looking-glass?"
"Well, the moon catches the sunlight just so, as a looking glass would."
"How do you know, Daisy? _I_ think it shines."
"I know because I have been told. It does not shine, any more than a
looking-glass."
"Who told you?"
"Dr. Sandford," Daisy whispered.
"Did he! Then why don't we have the moon every night?"
"Because the looking-glass, if you can imagine that it is a
looking-glass, does not always hang where it can catch the sun."
"Don't it? I don't like to think it is a looking-glass," said Nora. "I
would a great deal rather think it is the moon."
"Well, so it is," said Daisy. "You can think so."
"Daisy, what should we do if it should be rough in the middle of the
river?"
"_I_ like it," said Ella Stanfield.
"Perhaps it will not be very rough," said Daisy.
"But suppose it should? And where the moon don't shine it is so dark!"
"Nora," said Daisy very low, "don't you love Jesus?"
Nora at that flounced round, and turning her face from Daisy and the
moonlight, began to talk to Ella Stanfield on the other side of her.
Daisy did not understand what it meant.
All this while, and a good while longer, the rest of the people were
waiting with various degrees of patience and impatience for the coming
of Sam and the men. It was pretty there by the shore, if they had not
been impatient. The evening breeze was exceedingly fragrant and fresh;
the light which streamed down from the moon was sparkling on all the
surface of the water, and laid a broad band of illumination like a
causeway across the river. In one or two places the light shewed the
sails of a sloop or schooner on her way up or down; and along the shore
it grew daintily hazy and soft. But impatience was nevertheless the
prominent feeling on board the sail-boat; and it had good time to
display itself before Michael and James could go all the distance back
to the house and bring Sam away from it.
"Here he is!" "There they are at last!"--were the words of hail with
which their appearance was greeted. "Now off"--and with all haste the
three were received on board and the vessel pushed out into the stream.
Immediately her sail caught the breeze which came fair down the river,
and careening a little as she took it, her head began to make good speed
across the causeway of moonlight. But then the ladies began to scream;
for in mid-channel the wind was fresh and the waters had not quite
forgotten yet the tumult of the late storm, which had tossed them well.
The sail-boat danced bravely, up and down, going across the waves. Among
the frightened people was Nora, who grasping Daisy's dress with one
hand and some part of the boat with the other, kept uttering little
cries of "Oh Daisy"--"Oh! Daisy"--with every fresh lurch of the vessel.
Ella Stanfield had thrown herself down in her mother's lap. Daisy was
very much tried.
"Nora," she said, "I wish you would not cry so!"
"But I am afraid!"
"I wish you would be comforted, and not cry out so," sighed Daisy. "Papa
says there is no danger--didn't you hear him?"
"But oh, I am afraid!" re-echoed Nora.
Daisy folded her hands and tried to bide patiently the time of smooth
water. It came, partially at least, as they neared the opposite bank.
The boat went steadily; spirits revived; and soon the passage was
brought to an end and the sail-boat laid alongside the little jetty, on
which the party, men, women and children, stepped out with as sincere a
feeling of pleasure as had moved them all day. Carriages were in
waiting; a few minutes brought the whole company to Melbourne House.
Here they were to stay supper; and the ladies and gentlemen dispersed to
various dressing rooms to prepare for it. Soonest of all ready and in
the drawing room were the three children.
"I am so hungry!" said Nora.
"So am I!" said Ella Stanfield.
"We shall have supper presently," said Daisy.
"O Daisy, weren't you afraid in the boat, when it went up and down so?"
"I do not think I was afraid," said Daisy, "if other people had not been
so disturbed."
"I don't see how they could help being disturbed," said Ella Stanfield.
"Why the boat didn't sail straight at all."
"But _that_ does not do any harm," said Daisy.
"How do you know?" said Nora. "_I_ think it does harm; I do not think it
is safe."
"But you know, Nora, when the disciples were in the boat, and thought it
was not safe--the wind blew so, you know--they ought to have trusted
Jesus and not been afraid."
Nora and Ella both looked at Daisy for a minute after this speech, and
then by some train of association Nora started another subject.
"Daisy, have you got my Egyptian spoon yet?"
Now was Daisy in a great difficulty. She flushed; the little face which
had been pale enough before, became of a delicate pink hue all over. Not
knowing what to say she said nothing.
"Have you got it yet?" repeated Nora curiously.
"No, Nora. I have not."
"You have _not_? What have you done with it?"
"Nothing."
"My Egyptian spoon! that Marmaduke gave me to give to you! You have not
kept it! What did you do with it, Daisy?"
"I did nothing with it."
"Did you break it?"
"No."
"Did you give it away?"
"O Nora, I loved it very much," said poor Daisy; "but I could not keep
it. I could not!"
"Why couldn't you? I would not have given it to you, Daisy, if I had
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