Daisy In The Field

"They were at Lausanne. They were talking of going to

Lucerne."

"To stay?"

"For some time, I think. Papa was getting tired of Lausanne.

We shall know as soon as we reach our port."

"Wonderful things will crowd upon you now, Daisy," the doctor

said meditatively. "And you are as ready for them as ever."

"Don't they crowd upon everybody?" I said, remembering what

strange ones life had lately brought to me.

"Everybody does not see them - does not know it. You have this

peculiarity, that you will not fail to note every one that

comes within your knowledge. Europe will be a wonder gallery

to you. And life, perhaps."

"Oh, life is now, Dr. Sandford."

He had been looking very grave. He smiled at me then, one of

his bright, winsome smiles that the child Daisy used to get.

It made my heart sore with longing for him, and sorrow.

"Isn't it a wonder, that I live, and that I shall live for

ever?" I said. "That this world is only the portal to glory?

Isn't it a wonder, that there is a highway from these low

grounds to Heaven's court, and that the gates of brass and

bars of iron that stopped the way, are broken asunder? Isn't

it a wonder, that the Prince of Heaven came down to open the

way and to show it to us? and is there any wonder so great, as

that, after this, any mortal should refuse to walk that way?"

"Grant Sandford, to wit!" said the doctor with an odd

expression, something between pleased and displeased. "I am

afraid, Daisy, he would want an angel to go before him after

all."

I remember this little talk well, for it puzzled me and did

not seem like Dr. Sandford. I remember nothing else of any

interest till we came to Switzerland and I was near my

journey's end. We had pushed on, sometimes by night and day;

stopping only for necessary meals and refreshment. I wanted no

delay. When we reached the glories of the Swiss mountains,

even yet distant, my mood oddly changed, and I was no longer

in a hurry. My life, I knew, would take a new turn, in among

those mountains somewhere; and it might not, I had a shrewd

suspicion that it would not, be a turn for my ease and

comfort; and even while I was as eager as ever to see my

father and mother, at the same time I was willing to take the

last steps of the way more slowly, and enjoy what I had and

what I hoped for together, before reality should displace

anticipation. This is my understanding of the mood as I look

back to it; at the time I did not reason, but only was

conscious of being ready to linger and willing to lose nothing

of novelty and beauty on my way. However, lingering was not

possible. By one conveyance and another we pushed our way on,

till Lucerne, our place of destination, was reached.