Daisy in the Field
rather belong to Mr.Thorold, even through all this pain, than be nothing to himand have him nothing to me. Yes, even going away on my distantjourney to Europe, the knowledge of his love was a richerjewel in my heart than any other of earth's jewels that Icarried. So what was I crying about?
I washed away some of the soreness of the days past in thosetears. And then I came quietly back to my position; willingthat 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 leastso far I was willing, that I gave up all care-taking andceased to struggle. My mood grew even sunshiny as I walkedback to the hotel where we were all stationed. Hope began toexecute little dances before me.
The doctor was busy now, I understood, with trying to findsome party with whom I might make the journey to Switzerland.Mrs. Sandford was eager to get back to Melbourne, or itsneighbourhood; I always called the whole region by that name.How I wished I could be allowed to go with her, and wait theretill an opportunity offered for my further journey! But suchwere not the views of my guardian.
"Here's devotion!" exclaimed Mrs. Sandford as I came in to teaone 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 getaway?"
"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 itis a capital plan, for my part. He won't be gone any length oftime, you know; and indeed he must not; he will just runacross and put you in the hands of your friends; and so yourpassage is engaged, Daisy, in the _Persia_. I only wish I wasgoing 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.
"Yes, indeed; that _is_ a question," said Mrs. Sandford. "Justthink - she sails Saturday, and this is Thursday. Only onesingle day for you, Daisy; but after all, it is best so. Youcan be ready just as well, and the sooner you are off now thebetter. I shall miss you dreadfully, though."
I felt my cheeks turn cold, and I busied myself with my cup oftea.
"You are not so eager to be off, Miss Randolph, as my goodsister is to have you," I heard the doctor say.
"No, not quite. I would like better to go if all this troublein the country were ended."
"That would be to wait some time, I am afraid, said thedoctor, helping himself to a piece of toast. And I do not knowwhat in his motion and his manner of speech conveyed to me thenotion that he was glad I could not wait. And, my mother'schild though I was, I could not thwart him this time.
"It is a good time to be away, _I_ think," said Mrs. Sandford."I'd keep the news from her, Grant, if I were you. She sitsand studies the papers as if her life were in them."
"There will be no news on board the steamer," said the doctor.
Yes, I knew that. The very beginning of my journey was to cutme off from tidings. How should I get them in Switzerland? AndI must go too without seeing Miss Cardigan. Well, I thought,nothing can take my best Friend from me.
CHAPTER VIII.
DAISY'S POST
Dr. Sandford and I stood together on the deck of the steamer,looking at the lessening shore. I was afraid the doctor shouldsee how I looked, yet I could not turn my eyes from it. I hadgiven up the care of myself; I could bear to see Americafading out of my sight; yet it seemed to me as if I left Daisyand her life there, and as if I must be like a wanderingspirit from another world till I should come back to thoseshores again. I would minister to my father and mother, butnobody would minister to me. And I thought it was very likelyvery good for me. Maybe I was in danger of growing selfish andof forgetting my work and all happiness except my own andThorold's. I could do nothing for either of those now; nothingactively. But I called myself up as soon as that thoughtpassed through me. I could always pray; and I could be quietand trust; and I could be full of faith, hope and love; andanybody with those is not unhappy. And God is with his people;and he can feed them in a desert. And with that, I went downto my stateroom, to sob my heart out. Not altogether insorrow, or I think I should not have shed a tear; but withthat sense of joy and riches in the midst of trial; thefeeling of care that was over my helplessness, and hope thatcould never die nor be disappointed sin spite of the manyhopes that fail.
After that, my voyage was pleasant, as every voyage or journeyis when one goes in the Lord's hand and with Him for acompanion. I had no news, as the doctor had said, and I laiddown all the matter of the war; though I was obliged to hearit talked of very much and in a way that was often extremelyhard to bear. The English people on board seemed to think thatAmericans had no feeling on the subject of their country, orno country to feel about. Certainly they showed no respect formine; and though Dr. Sandford and one or two other gentlemencould and did answer their words well and cogently, and therewas satisfaction in that; yet it was a warfare I did notchoose to enter into unless good breeding could be a defenceon both sides. They abused Mr. Lincoln; how they abused him!they have learned better since. They abused republics ingeneral, rejoicing openly in the ruin they affected to seebefore ours. Yes, the United States of America and theirboasted Constitution were a vast bubble - no solidity - rathera collection of bubbles, which would go to pieces by their owncontact. Specially the weight of dislike and maligning fell onthe Northern portion of the country; sympathy was with theSouth. These natives of the free British Isles wereunmistakably disposed to cheer and help on a nation ofoppressors, and wished them success. It was some time before Icould understand such an anomaly; at last I saw that theinstinct of self-preservation was at work, and I forgave asnatural, what I could not admire as noble.
This element in our little society troubled somewhat myenjoyment of the voyage. I _had_ some patriotic nerves, if I wasan American; and every one of them was often tingling withdisagreeable irritation. Besides, ill-breeding is of itselfalways disagreeable enough; and here was ill-breeding in well-bred people, - worst of all. And I had my own private reasonsfor annoyance. A favourite theme with the company was the wantof soldiers or generals at the North, and the impossibilitythat a set of mechanics and tradesmen, who knew only how tomake money and keep it, should be able in chivalrous andgentlemanly exercises to cope with the Southern cavaliers, whowere accustomed to sword and pistol and the use of them fromtheir youth up. Bull Run, they said, showed what theconsequence must always be, of a conflict between soldierswith the martial spirit and soldiers without it. It would bemuch better and cheaper for the North to succumb at once. Ihad Southern prejudice enough to believe there might be a gooddeal of truth in this, but I could not bear to hear it or tothink it; for besides the question of country and right, theruin of the North would be disaster to Mr. Thorold and me. Ishunned at last all conversation with our English companions,as far as I could, and bent my thoughts forward to the joyfulmeeting which lay before me with father and mother andbrother. Brighter and brighter the prospect grew, as each daybrought it nearer; and I sat sometimes by the hour lookingover the waters and resting my heart in the hope of thatmeeting.
"Almost in, Miss Randolph," said the doctor, coming to my sideone of those times.
I brought my eyes from the dancing sea, and answered "You areglad."
"Very glad."
"What route will you take, when we get to land?"
"The shortest."
"You do not wish to see anything by the way?"
"I can see enough, after I get to them," I answered.
"You are at a happy time of life!" the doctor said after apause.
"Are you past it, Dr. Sandford?" I asked, replying, I think,to something in the tones of his voice.
"I do not know. I think, yes. Cologne cathedral will never beto me what it will be to you."
"What will it be to me?"
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sp; "I wish you would tell me, when you see it."
"Does it lie in our route?" I asked somewhat eagerly.
"It can - if you choose."
"But I should not want to stop to look at it," I said; "and Icould not see it without stopping, I suppose."
"I suppose not. Well, we will push forward as fast aspossible. To Lausanne, is it?"
"They _were_ at Lausanne. They were talking of going toLucerne."
"To stay?"
"For some time, I think. Papa was getting tired of Lausanne.We shall know as soon as we reach our port."
"Wonderful things will crowd upon you now, Daisy," the doctorsaid meditatively. "And you are as ready for them as ever."
"Don't they