Daisy | Page 3

difficulty, and apart from each other. I hardly know whether that, or anything, could have made me more forlorn. I was already stiff and weary with the twelve hours of travelling we had gone through that day; inexpressibly weary in heart. It seemed to me that I could not endure long the rumble and the jar and the closeness of this last car. The passengers, too, had habits which made me draw my clothes as tight around me as I could, and shrink away mentally into the smallest compass possible. I had noticed the like, to be sure, ever since we left Washington; but to-night, in my weary, faint, and tired-out state of mind and body, every unseemly sight or sound struck my nerves with a sense of pain that was hardly endurable. I wondered if the train would go on all night; it went very slowly. And I noticed that nobody seemed impatient or had the air of expecting that it would soon find its journey's end. I felt as if I could not bear it many half hours. My next neighbour was a fat, good- natured old lady, who rather made matters worse by putting her arm round me and hugging me up, and begging me to make a pillow of her and go to sleep. My nerves were twitching with impatience and the desire for relief; when suddenly the thought came to me that I might please the Lord by being patient. I remember what a lull the thought of Him brought; and yet how difficult it was not to be impatient, till I fixed my mind on some Bible words, — they were the words of the twenty-third psalm, — and began to think and pray them over. So good they were, that by and by they rested me. I dropped asleep and forgot my aches and weariness until the train arrived at Baytown.
They took me to a hotel then, and put me to bed, and I did not get up for several days. I must have been feverish; for my fancies wandered incessantly in unknown places with papa, in regions of the old world; and sometimes, I think, took both him and myself to rest and home where wanderings are over. After a few days this passed away. I was able to come downstairs; and both Preston and his mother did their best to take good care of me. Especially Preston. He brought me books, and fruit and birds to tempt me to eat; and was my kind and constant companion when his mother was out, and indeed when she was in, too. So I got better, by the help of oranges and rice-birds. I could have got better faster, but for my dread of a governess which was hanging over me. I heard nothing about her, and could not bear to ask. One day Preston brought the matter up and asked if Daisy was going to have a schoolmistress?
"Certainly," my aunt Gary said. "She must be educated, you know."
"I don't know," said Preston; "but if they say so, I suppose she must. Who is it to be, mamma?"
"You do not know anything about it," said aunt Gary. "If my son was going to marry the greatest heiress in the State — and she is very nearly that; — goodness! I did not see you were there, Daisy, my dear; but it makes no difference; — I should think it proper that she should be educated."
"I can't see what her being an heiress should have to do with it," said Preston, — "except rather to make it unnecessary as well as a bore. Who is it, mamma?"
"I have recommended Miss Pinshon."
"Oh, then, it is not fixed yet."
"Yes, it is fixed. Miss Pinshon is coming as soon as we get to Magnolia."
"I'll be off before that," said Preston. "Who is Miss Pinshon?"
"How should you know? She has lived at Jessamine Bank, — educated the Dalzell girls."
"What sort of a person, mamma?"
"What sort of a person?" said my aunt Gary; "why, a governess sort of person. What sort should she be?"
"Any other sort in the world," said Preston, "for my money. That is just the sort to worry poor little Daisy out of her life."
"You are a foolish boy!" said aunt Gary. "Of course, if you fill Daisy's head with notions, she will not get them out again. If you have anything of that sort to say, you had better say it where she will not hear."
"Daisy has eyes — and a head," said Preston.
As soon as I was able for it Preston took me out for short walks; and as I grew stronger he made the walks longer. The city was a strange place to me; very unlike New York; there was much to see and