Daisy In The Field

"It is not that!" I exclaimed. "No, I am not. I am not - I

shall not be a great heiress, or an heiress at all, I think.

Christian is richer than I."

"My dear!" said Miss Cardigan. "Christian never said a word to

me about it, but your friend Mrs. Sandford - she told me; she

told me you would be one of the richest women in your State."

"She thought so," - I said.

"My dear, your parents are very wealthy; and they have only

one other child, Mrs. Sandford told me. I remember, for it

took me with a pity at my heart, little Daisy, for you."

"Yes, they are wealthy," I said; "and Ransom, my brother, is

the only other one. He will be rich. But I shall not."

"Do you mean he is the favourite?" said Miss Cardigan.

"Oh, no!" I said. "At least, if he is, so am I. It isn't that.

But I shall never be an heiress, Miss Cardigan. I shall be

very poor, I rather think."

I smiled at her as I said these words - they were upon the

first pleasant subject that had been touched for some time

between us; and Miss Cardigan looked quite bewildered. I

remembered she had good reason; and I thought it was right,

though very much against my will, to explain my words.

"You know what makes my father and mother rich?" I said.

"My dear!" said Miss Cardigan - "They have large Southern

properties."

"And you know what makes Southern wealth?" I went on.

"Rice - cotton -"

"No, it isn't that," I said.

"What then, my dear? I do not know what you mean. I thought it

was mainly cotton."

"It is unpaid labour," I said. "It is hands that ought to work

for themselves; and men and women that ought to belong to

themselves."

"Slaves," said Miss Cardigan. "But, Daisy, what do you mean?

It's all true; but what can you do?"

"I can have nothing to do with it. And I will have nothing. I

would rather be poor, as poor as old Darry and Maria, than

take what belongs to them. Miss Cardigan, so would you."

She settled herself back in her chair, like a person who has

got a new thought. "My dear child!" she said. And then she

said nothing more. I did not wish she should. I wanted no

counsel, nor to hear any talk about it. I had only spoken so

much, as thinking she had a right to hear it. I went back into

my own meditations.