"Mamma!" I laughed. "Why should I?"
"And there are a great many other things you have not told
me," she went on. I had to control myself to prevent a start,
though her words meant nothing.
"Of course, mamma," I answered.
"Yes; you could hardly have been expected to give me a
catalogue raisonné of your advantages. Do you know them
yourself, Daisy?"
"Mamma, - I suppose I know some of them."
"Do you know, for instance, that your skin is exquisite, in
colour and texture?"
"Mrs. Sandford used to tell me so," I said.
My mother drew the tips of her fingers over my cheek.
"And now, at my saying that, comes a little rose hue here, as
delicate as the inside of a shell. But you have lost all the
look of delicate condition, Daisy; this is the colour of
perfect health."
"Dr. Sandford has taken care of me, mamma."
"Your father trusted a great deal to Dr. Sandford. Do you
think his trust was well placed?"
"Nobody could have taken more care of me, mamma. Dr. Sandford
has been very good."
"He always was your favourite," she remarked.
"Well, mamma, he deserved all I have given him."
"Don't give anybody much, - unless I bid you," my mother said,
laughingly. "Daisy, you have matured better even than I ever
thought you would, or than your aunt Gary told me. Your figure
is as good as ever mine was."
She took up one of my hands, looked at it, kissed it, and as
she let it drop asked carelessly, "What has become of Preston now?"
I felt as if breakers were all around me. "He has joined the
Southern army," I said.
"When did you see him?"
"Not since a year ago."
"Where then?"
"At West Point, mamma. He only graduated this spring."
"Were you long at West Point?"
"Yes, ma'am - some weeks."
"Dr. Sandford did not show remarkable care in that."
"He thought so, mamma, for he found me not well, and took me
away immediately from school, without waiting for the term to
close. Mrs. Sandford and he, were going to West Point - and so
-"
"West Point did you good?"
"I grew well there."
"Your aunt tells me, your voice is very uncommon, Daisy. Is
she right in that?"
"Mamma - you can judge better than I. It is not so easy for me
to judge how it sounds."
"You know how it sounds to you."
"Yes, but then I am thinking of the music. I cannot tell,
mamma, how it sounds to other people."
"Well, we shall be able to judge by and by," my mother said,
in a satisfied tone. "Your speaking voice is as calm and sweet
as I ever heard."