Supper was very full of talk. Mrs. Sandford wanted to know
everything; from the state of the capital and the military
situation and prospects for the nation, to the openings for
enjoyment or excitement which might await ourselves. The
doctor answered her fast enough; but I noticed that he often
looked at me.
"Are you tired?" he asked me at length; and there was a tone
of gentle deference in his question, such as I often heard
from Dr. Sandford. I saw that my silence struck him.
"Nonchalant," said Mrs. Sandford, half laughing. "Daisy does
not care about all these things. Why should she? To see and to
conquer are the same thing with her, whatever becomes of your
Southern and Northern camps and armies."
"Indeed I do care," I said.
"For receptions at the White House? - or military reviews? -
or parades, or encampments? Confess, Daisy."
"Yes, I care," I said. "I care about some of these things."
"I am glad to hear it," said Mrs. Sandford. "I really thought,
Daisy, you were superior to them all. Why, child, you have
done nothing but meditate, in the gravest manner, ever since
we took seats in the cars this morning. I was thinking that
nothing but cabinet ministers would interest you."
This would not do. I roused myself and smiled.
"What do you think of your ward?" said Mrs. Sandford
pointedly.
"I think more of her guardian," said the doctor somewhat
dryly.
"How soon are you going to send Daisy to Europe?"
"According to orders, just as soon as I can satisfy myself
with a good opportunity. I wish you would go."
"Meanwhile, it is a very good thing that she should come here.
It will keep her from ennui at least. Washington is alive,
that is one thing; and Daisy, my dear, we may mount muskets
yet. Come, let us go and get a good night's sleep while that
is possible."
I was glad to be alone. I took off my dusty travelling dress,
refreshed myself with a bath, put on a wrapper, and sat down
to think.
I found my heart was beating in a way that showed some mental
fever. What was I about? what was I going to do? I asked
myself.
I sat with my head in my hands. Then I got up and walked the
floor. I found that I was determined to see Mr. Thorold, and
to see him as soon as possible. Yet I had no certain means of
communicating with him. My determination was a vague
determination, but it sprung from the necessity of the case. I
must see Mr. Thorold. Both of us in Washington for a little
while now, no foresight could tell when again we might be near
each other. It might well be never. I would see him. Then came
the question, - Daisy, what are you going to say to him, when
you see him? I walked and thought.