Daisy In The Field

"It would not cost more to go to Palestine, would it, papa,

than to live as we are doing now?"

"Palestine!" he exclaimed. "Your mother would never go to

Palestine, Daisy."

"But you and I might, papa, - for a few months. You know mamma

wants to go to Paris, to be there with Aunt Gary, who is

coming."

"She wants you there too, Daisy, I much suspect; not to speak

of me."

"What better time can we ever have, papa?"

"I do not know. I am afraid your mother would say any other

would be better."

"Papa, I cannot tell you how glad I should be to go now."

"Why, Daisy?" said papa, looking at me. "To my certain

knowledge, there are several people who will be desolate if

you quit Florence at this time - several besides your mother."

"Papa, - that is the very reason why I should like to go -

before it becomes serious."

Papa became serious immediately. He lifted my face to look at

it, flushed as I suppose it was; and kissed me, with a smile

which did not in the least belie the seriousness.

"If we go to Paris, Daisy? - we should leave your enemies

behind."

"No papa - two of them are going to Paris when we go."

"That is serious," said my father. "After all, why not,

Daisy?"

"Oh, papa, let us get away while it is time!" I said. "Mamma

was so displeased with me because of Mr. De Saussure and Mr.

Marshall; and she will be again - perhaps."

"Why, Daisy," said papa, lifting my face again for scrutiny, -

"how do you know? Are you cased in proof armour? are you sure?

Do you know what you are talking of, Daisy?"

"Yes, - I know, papa."

"I see you do. Whenever your eyes are deep and calm like that,

you are always in your right mind and know it. That is, you

are thoroughly yourself; and so far as my limited acquaintance

with you goes, there is no other mind that has the power of

turning you. Yes, Daisy; we will go to Palestine, you and I."

I kissed his hand, in the extremity of my joy.

"But this is not a proper season for travelling in Syria, my

pet. I am afraid it is not. The winter rains make the roads

bad."

"Oh, yes, papa. - We will be quiet when it rains, and travel

on the good days. And then we shall be in time to see the

spring flowers."

"How do you know anything about that, Daisy?"

"Papa, I remember when I was a child, at Melbourne, Mr.

Dinwiddie told me some of these things; and I have never

forgotten."

"Have you wanted to go to Palestine ever since you were ten

years old?"