"Must not every woman wish for peace?" I said. It was an
unhappy attempt at a diversion, and if I had not been in a
hurry I should not have made it.
"No," my mother answered, not sharply, but with cold
distinctness. "Before the South should submit to the dictation
or reproof of Northern boors and fanatics, I would take a
musket myself and die in the trenches."
"It is an ugly place to die in, my dear," answered my father.
"See Daisy shiver!" Ransom exclaimed; and he burst into a
laugh, "Mamma, Daisy's blood has grown thin at the North. She
is not a true Southern woman. There is no fire in you, Daisy."
Not at that moment, for I was sick and cold, as he said. I
could not get accustomed to these things, with all the
practice I had.
"No fire in her?" said papa, calmly. "There is ammunition
enough, Ransom. I don't want to see the fire, for my part. I
am glad there is one of us that keeps cool. My darling, you
look pale - what is it for?"
"Fire that burns with a blue flame," said mamma.
"Blue?" - said papa, with a look at me which somehow set us all
to laughing.
"The carmine is coming in again," said mamma. "I profess I do
not understand you, Daisy."
I was afraid she began to suspect me.
It was very true that mamma did not understand me; and it was
the unhappiness of my life. I tried hard to narrow the
distance between us, by every opportunity that the days or the
hours gave; and a certain accord was after a time established
anew in our relations with each other. Mamma again took to
adorning and playing with me; again studied my toilettes and
superintended my dressing; made me as exquisite as herself in
all outward paraphernalia. I let her alone; in this at least I
could gratify her; and no occasion of gratifying her was to be
lost. Papa was pleased too, though I think it made less
difference to him what I was dressed in; yet he observed me,
and smiled in a way to show his pleasure whenever a new device
of mamma's produced a new effect. She sought society for
herself and me now. We removed from Geneva and went to
Florence. I was thankful it was not to Paris. Every foot of
Italy had great charms for me; and I dreamed over Florence,
with a delighted fancy that never grew tired or tame. That my
evenings were spent in what I did not care for, could not
spoil my days. Our walks and drives, which papa and I often
now took alone, were delicious beyond expression. I forgot the
whirl of the night before and of the evening to come, and I
was the child Daisy again, I think, in very much. At night
mamma had me.