Daisy in the Field

was not silent, I'll answer for it," said his aunt; "butthe letters might have gone wrong, you know. That is what theyhave done, somehow."

  "What could have been the foundation of that story?" Iquestioned.

  "I just counsel ye to ask Christian, when ye see him - ifthese weary wars ever let us see him. I think he'll answerye."

  And his aunt's manner rather intimated that my answer would bedecisive. I bade her good bye, and returned along theshadowing streets with such a play of life and hope in myheart, as for the time changed it into a very garden ofdelight. I was not the same person that had walked those waysa few hours ago.

  This jubilation, however, could not quite last. I had nosooner got home, than mamma began to cast in doubts and fearsand frettings, till the play of the fountain was well nighcovered over with rubbish. Yet I could feel the waters of joystirring underneath it all; and she said, rather in adispleased manner, that my walk seemed to have done me a greatdeal of good! and inquired where I had been. I told her, ofcourse; and then had to explain how I became acquainted withMiss Cardigan; a detail which mamma heard with smalledification. Her only remark, however, made at the end, was,"I beseech you, Daisy, do not cultivate such associations!"

  "She was very good to me, mamma, when I was a schoolgirl."

  "Very well, you are not a schoolgirl now."

  It followed very easily, that I could see little of my dearold friend. Mamma was suspicious of me and rarely allowed meto go I out of her sight. We abode still at the hotel, wherewe had luxurious quarters; how paid for, mamma's jewel-boxknew. It made me very uneasy to live so; for jewels, even bethey diamonds, cannot last very long after they are onceturned into gold pieces; and I knew ours went fast; butnothing could move my mother out of her pleasure. In vain Dr.Sandford wrote and remonstrated; and in vain I sometimespleaded. "The war is not going to last for ever," she wouldcoldly reply; "you and Dr. Sandford are two fools. The South_cannot_ be conquered, Daisy."

  But I, with trembling hope, was beginning to think otherwise.

  So the days passed on, and the weeks. Mamma spent half hertime over the newspapers. I consulted them, I could not helpit, in my old fashion; and it made them gruesome things to me.But it was a necessity for me, to quiet my nerves with thecertainty that no name I loved was to be found there in thoselists of sorrow.

  And one day that certainty failed. Among the new arrivals ofwounded men just come into Washington from Virginia, I saw thename of Captain Preston Gary.

  It was late in the summer, or early in September; I forgetwhich. We were as we had been; nothing in our positionchanged. Mamma at the moment was busy over other prints,having thrown this down; and feeling my cheeks grow white as Isat there, I held the paper to shield my face and ponderedwhat I should do. The instant thought had been, "I must go tohim." The second brought difficulties. How to meet thedifficulties, I sat thinking; that I must go to Preston Inever doubted for a moment. I sat in a maze; till anexclamation from my mother brought my paper shield down.

  "Here's a letter from the doctor, Daisy; he says your cousinis in the hospital."

  "_His_ hospital?" I asked.

  "I suppose so; he does not say that. But he says he is badlywounded. I wonder how he comes to be in Washington?"

  "Taken prisoner, mamma."

  "Yes, - wounded," mamma said bitterly. "That's the only way hecould. Dr. Sandford bids me let his mother know. She can't goto him; even if my letter could reach her in time and shecould get to Washington, which I don't believe she could; sheis too ill herself. I shall not write to her."

  "Let us go, mamma; you and I."

  "I?" said mamma. "_I_ go to that den of thieves? No; I shall notgo to Washington, unless I am dragged there."

  "But Preston, mamma; think!"

  "I am tired of thinking, Daisy. There is no good in thinking.This is the work of your favourite Northern swords and guns; Ihope you enjoy it."

  "I Would like to remedy it, mamma; to do something at least.Mamma, do let us go to Preston!"

  I spoke very earnestly, and I believe with tears. Mamma lookedat me.

  "Why, do you care for him?" she asked.

  "Very much!" I said weeping.

  "I did not know you had any affection for anything South,except the coloured people."

  "Mamma, let us go to Preston. He must want us so much!"

  "I cannot go to Washington, Daisy."

  "Can you spare me, mamma? I will go."

  "Do you love Preston Gary?" said mamma, sitting up-right tolook at me.

  "Mamma, I always loved him. You know I did."

  "Why did you not say so before?"

  "I did say so, mamma, whenever I was asked. Will you let mego? O mamma, let me go!"

  "What could you do, child? he is in the hospital."

  "Mamma, he may want so many things; I know he must want somethings."

  "It is vain talking. You cannot go alone, Daisy."

  "No, ma'am; but if I could get a good safe friend to go withme?"

  "I do not know such a person in this place."

  "I do, mamma, - just the person."

  "Not a fit person for you to travel with."

  "Yes, mamma, just the one; safe and wise to take care of me.And if I were once there, Dr. Sandford would do anything forme."

  Mamma pondered my words, but would not yield to them. I wepthalf the evening, I think, with a strange strain on my heartthat said I must go to Preston. Childish memories came thickabout me, and later memories; and I could not bear the idea ofhis dying, perhaps, alone in a hospital, without one near tosay a word of truth or help him in any wish or want that wentbeyond the wants of the body. Would even those be met? Mynerves were unstrung.

  "Do stop your tears, Daisy!" mamma said at length. "I can'tbear them. I never saw you do so before."

  "Mamma, I must go to Preston."

  "If you could go there properly, child, and had any one totake care of you; as it is, it is impossible."

  I half thought it was; I could not bend mamma. But while wesat there under the light of the lamp, and I was trying to dosome work, which was every now and then wetted by a drop thatwould fall, a servant brought in a note to me. It was fromMrs. Sandford, in New York, on her way to Washington to lookafter a friend of her own; and asking if in any matter shecould be of service to me or to mamma. I had got myopportunity now, and I managed to get mamma's consent. Ianswered Mrs. Sandford's note; packed up my things; and by theearly train next morning started with her for Washington.

  Mrs. Sandford was very kind, very glad to have me with her,very full of questions, of sympathy, of condolence, and ofcare; I remember all that, and how I took it at the time,feeling that Daisy and Daisy's life had changed since last Iwas under that same gentle and feeble guidance. And I rememberwhat an undertone of music ran through my heart in the thoughtthat I might perhaps hear of, or see, Mr. Thorold. Our journeywas prosperous; and the next person we saw after arriving atour rooms was Dr. Sandford. He shook hands with his sister;and then, his eye lightened and his countenance altered as heturned to the other figure in the room and saw who it was.

  "Daisy!" he exclaimed, warmly grasping my hand, - "MissRandolph! where is Mrs. Randolph, and what brings you here?"

  "Why, the train, to be sure, Grant," answered his sister-in-law. "What a man you are - for business! Do let Daisy rest andbreathe and have something to eat, before she is obliged togive an account of herself. See, we are tired to death."

  Perhaps she was, but I was not. However, the doctor and I bothyielded. Mrs. Sandford and I withdrew to change our dresses,and then we had supper; but after supper, when she was againout of the room, Dr. Sandford turned to me and took my hand.

  "I must go presently," he said. "Now, Miss Randolph, what isit?"

  I sat down and he sat down beside me, still holding my hand,on a sofa in the room.

  "Dr. Sandford, my cousin Gary is a prisoner and in thehospital. You wrote to mamma."

  "Yes. I thought his mother might like to know."

  "She is ill hersel
f, in Georgia, and cannot come toWashington. Dr. Sandford, I want to go in and take care ofhim."

  "You!" said the doctor. But whatever he thought, hiscountenance was impenetrable.

  "You can manage that for me."

  "Can I?" said he. "But, Daisy, you do not come under theregulations."

  "That is no matter, Dr. Sandford."

  "How is it no matter?"

  "Because, I know you can do what you like. You always couldmanage things for me."

  He smiled a little, but went on in an unchanged tone.

  "You are too young; and - excuse me - you have anotherdisqualification."

  "I will do just as you tell me," I said.

  "If I let you in."

  "You will let me in."

  "I do not see that I ought. I think I ought not."

  "But you _will_, Dr. Sandford. My cousin was very dear to mewhen I was a child at Melbourne - I love him yet very much -no one would take so good care of him as I would; and it wouldbe a comfort to me for ever. Do let me go in! I have come forthat."

  "You might get sick yourself," he said. "You do not know whatyou would be obliged to hear and see. You do not know, Daisy."

  "I am not a child now," - I replied.

  There was more in my answer than mere words; there was more, Iknow, in my feeling; and the doctor took the force of it. Helooked very sober, though, upon my plan, which it was evidenthe did not like.

  "Does Mrs. Randolph give her consent to this proceeding?" heasked.

  "She knows I came that I might look after Preston. I did nottell her my plan any further."

  "She would not like it."

  "Mamma and I do not see things with the - same eyes, somethings, Dr. Sandford. I think I _ought_ to do it."

  "I think she is right," he said. "You are not fit for it. Youhave no idea what you would be obliged to encounter."

  "Try me," I said.

  "I believe you are fit for anything," he broke out in answerto this last appeal; "and I owned myself conquered by you,Daisy, long ago. I find I have not recovered my independence.Well - you will go in. But you cannot be dressed - _so_."

  "No, I will change my dress. I will do it immediately."

  "No, not to-night!" exclaimed the doctor. "Not to-night. It isbad enough to-morrow; but I shall not take you in to-night.Rest, and sleep and be refreshed; I need not say, be strong;for that you are always. No, I will not take you with me to-night. You must wait."

  And I could do no more with him for the time. I improved theinterval, however. I sent out and got some yards of check tomake aprons; and at my aprons I sat sewing all the evening, toMrs. Sandford's disgust.

  "My dear child, what do you want of those things?" she said,looking at them and me with an inexpressible disdain of thecheck.

  "I think they will be useful, ma'am."

  "But you are not going into the hospital?"

  "Yes; to-morrow morning."

  "As a visitor. But not to stay."

  "I am going to stay if I am wanted," I said, displaying thedimensions of my apron for my own satisfaction.

  "My dear, if you stay, you will be obliged to see all mannerof horrible things."

  "They must be worse to bear than to see, Mrs. Sandford."

  "But you cannot endure to see them, Daisy; you never can.Grant will never allow it."

  I sewed in silence, thinking that Dr. Sandford would conformhis will to mine in the matter.

  "I will never forgive him if he does!" said the lady. But thatalso I thought would have to be borne. My heart was firm forwhatever lay before me. In the hospital, by Preston's side, Iwas sure my work lay; and to be there, I must have a place atother bedsides as well as his. In the morning Mrs. Sandfordrenewed her objections and remonstrances as soon as she sawher brother-in-law; and to do him justice, he looked as illpleased as she did.

  "Daisy wants to go into the hospital as a regular nurse," shesaid.

  "It is a weakness of large-hearted women now-a-days."

  "Large-hearted! Grant, you are not going to permit such athing?"

  "I am no better than other men," said the doctor; "and have nomore defences."

  "But it is Daisy that wants the defences," Mrs. Sandfordcried; "it is she that is running into danger."

  "She shall want no defences while she is in my hospital."

  "It is very well to say; but if you let her in there, youcannot help it. She must be in danger, of all sorts of harm."

  "If you will prevent it, Mrs. Sandford, you will lay me underobligations," said the doctor, sitting down and looking up athis sister-in-law somewhat comically. "I am helpless, for Ihave passed my word. Daisy has the command."

  "But just look at the figure she is, in that dress! Fancy it!That is Miss Randolph."

  The doctor glanced up and down, over my dress, and his eyeturned to Mrs. Sandford with provoking unconcern.

  "But you will not let her stay there, Grant?"

  The doctor looked up at me now, and I saw an answer ready onhis lips. There was but one way left for me, I thought; I donot know how I came to do it, but I was not Daisy thatmorning; or else my energies were all strung up to a state oftension that made Daisy a different person from her wont. Ilaid my hand lightly over the doctor's mouth before he couldspeak. It silenced him, as I hoped. He rose up with a lookthat showed me I had conquered, and asked if I were ready. Hemust go, he said.

  I did not keep him waiting. And once out in the street, withmy hand on his arm, I was quite Daisy again; as humble andquiet as ever in my life. I went like a child now, in myguardian's hand; through the little crowds of men collectedhere and there, past the sentinels at the hospital door, inthrough the wide, clean, quiet halls and rooms, where Dr.Sandford's authority and system made everything work, Iafterwards found, as by the perfection of machinery. Throughone ward and another at last, where the rows of beds, eachcontaining its special sufferer, the rows of faces, of variousexpression, that watched us from the beds, the attendants andnurses and the work that was going on by their hands, causedme to draw a little closer to the arm on which I leaned and tofeel yet more like a weak child. Yet even then, even at thatmoment, the woman within me began to rise and put down thefeeling of childish weakness. I began to be strong.

  Out of the wards, into his own particular room and office,comfortable enough, Dr. Sandford brought me then. He gave me achair, and poured me out a glass of wine.

  "No, thank you," said I, smiling. "I do not need it."

  "You are pale."

  "That is womanish; but I am not weak or faint, though."

  "Do you maintain your purpose?"

  "Yes, certainly."

  "You had better take off your bonnet and shawl then. You wouldfind them in the way."

  I obeyed, and went on to envelope myself in my apron. Dr.Sandford looked on grimly. Very ill pleased he was, I couldsee. But then I laid my hand on his arm and looked at him.

  "I am so much obliged to you for this," I said earnestly. Andhis face softened.

  "I am afraid it is wrong in me," he remarked.

  "If you thought it was, you would not do it," I answered; "andI hope I should not ask it. I am ready now. But Dr. Sandford,I want teaching, as to what I ought to do. Who will teach me?"

  "I will teach you. But you know how to give a sick man tea orsoup, I fancy, without much teaching."

  "There are other things, Dr. Sandford."

  "It will not be necessary. There are others to do the otherthings. Captain Gary has only some simple wounds to bedressed."

  "But there are others, Dr. Sandford? And I must know how to doall that the nurses do. I am not here to be in the way. I amnot going to take care of my cousin only."

  "There is enough to do," said the doctor; "but, you will notlike it, Daisy."

  Something in his wistful look at me, something in the contrastbetween merely seeing what he was afraid I should see, and thesuffering itself which by the sufferers had to be borne,touched me keenly. My eyes filled as I looked at the doctor,but I think the purpose in m
y heart perhaps came out in myface; for his own suddenly changed, and with a "Come, then!" -he gave me his arm and led the way upstairs and into anothersuccession of rooms, to the ward and the room where my cousinPreston lay.

  CHAPTER XXI.

  THE HOSPITAL

  A clean, quiet, airy room, like all the rest; like all therest filled with rows of beds, the occupants of which had comefrom the stir of the fight and the bustle of the march, to liehere and be still; from doing to suffering. How much theharder work, I thought; and if it be well done, how much thenobler. And all who know the way in which our boys did it,will bear witness to their great nobleness. Patient, andstrong, and brave, where there was no excitement to cheer, norspectators to applaud; their fortitude and their patience andtheir generous self-devotion never failed nor faltered, whenall adventitious or real helps and stimulants were withdrawn,and patriotism and bravery stood alone.

  From the turn of Dr. Sandford's head, I knew on which side Imight look to see Preston; and as we slowly passed up the longline of beds, I scanned breathlessly each face. Old and young,grim and fair, gentle and rough; it was a variety. And then Isaw, I should hardly have known it, a pale face with a darkmoustache and a thick head of dark, glossy hair, which wasluxuriant yet, although it had been cropped. His