Daisy In The Field

"Of us both, papa!" I said in astonishment. "Of me;

particularly, perhaps; because he knows me best and has known

me longest."

"Then he comes here to see you?"

"And you, papa."

"I am afraid he does not come to see me," papa said. "Do you

like to see him very much, Daisy?"

"Certainly, papa; very much; because he is an old, old, very

good friend. That is all."

"You are sure?"

"Quite sure, papa."

"I believe that is all," said papa, looking into my face.

"I am afraid, however, that our friend wishes he were not

quite so old a friend."

"No, papa," I said; "you are, mistaken. I am sure Mr.

Dinwiddie does not think so. He knows better."

"How does he know better?"

"I think he understands, papa."

"What?"

"Me."

"What about you?"

"I think he thinks only that, - what I said, papa."

"And how came you to think he thinks anything about it?"

"Papa -"

"Has he ever told you his thoughts?"

"No, sir; certainly."

"Then what do you mean, Daisy."

"Papa - we have talked."

"But not about that?"

"No, papa; not about Mr. Dinwiddie's feelings, certainly. But

I am sure he understands."

"What, my pet?"

"My feelings, papa."

"Your feeling about himself?"

"Yes."

"How should he understand it, Daisy?"

"I think he does, papa -"

"You say, you 'have talked'? What course did your talk take?"

My heart beat. I saw what was coming now, - what ought to

come. It was my time.

"It was a very general course, papa. It did not touch,

directly, my feeling for Mr. Dinwiddie, or anybody."

"Indirectly?"

"I think - I do not know - I half fancied, Mr. Dinwiddie

thought so."

"Thought what?"

"That it did touch some feeling of mine."

"Not for himself. For some other?"

"Yes -" I whispered.

"For whom?" he said abruptly. And then as I hesitated, "For one of those two?"

"What two?"

"De Saussure or Marshall?"

"Oh, no, papa!"

"Your cousin Gary?"

"Oh, no, papa!"

"Have I lost you, Daisy?" he said then in a different tone,

gentle and lingering and full of regret. My breath was gone; I

threw my arms around his neck.

"Why did you never tell me before, Daisy?"

"Papa, - I was afraid."

"Are you afraid now?"

"Yes."

"Let us have it over then, Daisy. Who is it that has stolen

you from me?"

"Oh no one, papal" I cried. "No one could. No one can."

"Who has tried, then?"

"A great many people, papa; but not this person."

"How has it come to pass then, my pet? And who is this

person?"

"Papa, it came to pass without anybody's knowing it or meaning

it; and when I knew it, then I could not help it. But not what

you say has come to pass; nobody has stolen or could steal me

from you."