o be taken from her, and
by my father and mother, and for such a cause? The feeling of grief
and wrong and shame got possession of me. I was ready to break my
heart in tears; but I could not show Dr. Sandford what I felt, nor
confess to what I thought of my father's action. I had the greatest
struggle with myself not to give way and cry. I was very weak bodily,
but I know I stood still and did not shed a tear; till I felt Dr.
Sandford's hands take hold of me. They put me gently back in the chair
from which I had risen.
"What is the matter, Daisy?" he said.
I would not speak, and he did not urge it; but I saw that he watched
me till I gained command of myself again.
"Shall we go home now?" he asked.
"In a minute. Dr. Sandford, I do not think papa knows about all
this--I do not think he knows about it as I do. I am sure he does not;
and when he knows he will think as I do."
"Or perhaps you will think as he does."
I was silent. I wondered if that could be possible--if I too could
have my eyes blinded as I saw other people's were.
"Little Daisy," said my friend the doctor, "but you are getting to be
not _little_ Daisy. How old are you?"
"I shall be fourteen in June."
"Fourteen. Well, it is no wonder that my friend whom I left a
philosopher at ten years old, I should find a woman at fourteen; but
Daisy, you must not take it on your heart that you have to teach all
the ignorant and help all the distressed that come in your way;
because simply you cannot do it."
I looked up at him. I could not tell him what I thought, because he
would not, I feared, understand it. Christ came to do just such work,
and His servants must have it on their hearts to do the same. I cannot
tell what was in my look, but I thought the doctor's face changed.
"One Molly Skelton will do for one four years," he said as he rose up.
"Come, Daisy."
"But, Dr. Sandford," I said, as I followed him, "you will not do
anything about sending Margaret back?"
"Nothing, till you do, Daisy."
Arrived at home, the doctor made me drink a raw egg, and lie down on
Mrs. Sandford's sofa; and he sat down and looked at me.
"You are the most troublesome patient that ever I had," said he.
"I am?" I exclaimed.
"Yes. Quite innocently. You cannot help it, Daisy; and you need not be
troubled about it. It is all in the way of my profession. It is as if
a delicate vessel of Egyptian glass were put to do the work of an iron
smelting furnace; and I
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