Daisy In The Field

The next day I was myself again. Not relieved from the

impression which had seized me when I first saw Mr. Thorold;

but quietly able to bear it; in a sort raised above it. To do

the moment's duty; to gather, and to give, every stray crumb

of relief or pleasure that might be possible for either of us;

better than that, to do the Lord's will and to bear it, were

all I sought for. All at least, of which I was fairly

conscious that I sought it; the heart has a way of carrying on

underground trains of feeling and action of its own, and so

did mine now. As I found afterwards. But I was perfectly able

for all my work. When next I had an opportunity for private

talk with Mr. Thorold, he asked me with a smile, if the

resentment was all gone? I told him, "Oh, yes."

"What was the 'self-will' about, Daisy?"

"You remember too well," I said.

"What?"

"Me and my words."

"Why?"

"It is not easy to say why, just in this instance."

"No. Well, Daisy, say the other thing. About the self-will."

I hesitated.

"Are you apt to be self-willed?" he asked, tenderly.

"I do not know. I believe I did not use to think so. I am

afraid it is very difficult to know oneself, Christian."

"I think you are self-willed," he said, smiling.

"Did you use to see it in me?"

"I think so. What is the present matter in hand, Daisy?"

I did not want to tell him. But I could not run away. And

those bright eyes were going over my face and reading in it, I

knew. I did not know what they read. I feared. He waited,

smiling a little as he looked.

"I ought not to be self-willed, - about anything," - I said at

last.

"No, I suppose not. What has got a grip of your heart then,

Daisy?"

"I am unwilling to see you lying here," I said. It was said

with great force upon myself, under the stress of necessity.

"And unwilling that I should get any but one sort of

discharge," - he added.

"You do not fear it," I said, hastily.

"I fear nothing. But a soldier, Daisy, - a soldier ought to be

ready for orders; and he must not choose. He does not know

where the service will call for him. He knows his Captain does

know."

I stood still, slowly fanning Mr. Thorold; my self-control

could go no further than to keep, me outwardly quiet.

"You used to be a soldier," he said gently, after a pause.

"You are yet. Not ready for orders, Daisy?"

"Christian - you know, -" I stammered forth.

"I know, my beloved. And there is another that knows. He knows

all. Can't you leave the matter to him?"