Daisy In The Field

I went out for my usual evening walk, longing and half

dreading to see Mr. Thorold; for I did not like to show him my

fears; they gave him pain; and yet at the same time I wanted

him to scold them away. But this time I did not see him. I

walked the avenue, at first eagerly, then anxiously; then with

an intense pressing pain and suspense which could hardly be

borne. Neither Thorold nor Thorold's horse appeared among all

the figures moving there; and after walking as long as I

dared, I was fain to go home with that pain in my heart. It

seemed, as I went up the stairs to my room, almost as if I

could die at once with it. Yet I had to make my hair smooth

and meet Mrs. Sandford at tea, and hear all her little details

about Dr. Sandford's illness; which, as they were precisely

the same as those of the day before, had nothing even to hold

my attention for a moment. But I attended. It was necessary.

And I eat toast and drank tea. That was necessary too; with

every mouthful a stab of pain, and every little ordinary

incident of the tea-table a wrenching of my heartstrings. One

does those things quietly and the world never knows. But I

hailed it as a great relief when Mrs. Sandford rose from the

table.

"Poor Daisy!" she said. "I must leave you to yourself again -

all alone. It's too bad!"

"I like it very well so," I told her.

"It mustn't go on," she said. "Really it must not. You will

mope, if you don't already. Don't you, Daisy? Where are all

your admirers?"

She had touched my face caressingly with her fingers, and I

had to look up and meet her. It was one of the hardest minutes

of self-control I ever knew. I met her and answered calmly,

even coldly; and she went; and I sat down and shrank, I

remember how I shrank, lowering my head and neck and shoulders

in a crushing reaction from the erect self-assertion of the

moment before. The next thing, two hands were on my shoulders

and a voice whispered in my ear a question, "what was the

matter?". So as no other voice ever asked me that question; -

with the tender assumption of the right to know, and an

equally gentle hint that there was comfort and help somewhere

not far off. Now, however, I only started up with terror at

hearing that voice there; - terror instantly displaced by

another terror at the reason of its being there. I knew, I

can't tell how I knew, by the first glance into Mr. Thorold's

face.

"Yes," said he, in a low voice, "I have got orders."

"Where?" I managed to ask. "To do what?"