Melbourne House, Volume 2 | Page 8

from his blue eye.
"What then, Daisy? how do you make out your position?"
Daisy did not very well like to say. She had a certain consciousness--or fear--that it would not be understood, and she would be laughed at--not openly, for Dr. Sandford was never impolite; but yet she shrunk from the cold glance of unbelief, or of derision, however well and kindly masked. She was silent.
"Haven't we got into a confidential position yet?" said the doctor.
"Yes, sir, but--"
"Speak on."
"Jesus will help us, Dr. Sandford, if we ask him." And tears, that were tears of deep penitence now, rushed to Daisy's eyes.
"I do not believe, Daisy, to begin with, that you know what anger means."
"I have been angry this morning," said Daisy sadly. "I am angry now, I think."
"How do you feel when you are angry?"
"I feel wrong. I do not want to see the person--I feel she would be disagreeable to me, and if I spoke to her I should want to say something disagreeable."
"Very natural," said the doctor.
"But it is wrong."
"If you can help it, Daisy. I always feel disagreeable when I am angry. I feel a little disagreeable now that you are angry."
Daisy could not help smiling at that.
"Now suppose we go down stairs."
"O no, sir. O no, Dr. Sandford, please! I am not ready--I would rather not go down stairs to-day. Please don't take me!"
"To-morrow you must, Daisy. I shall not give you any longer than till then."
Away went Dr. Sandford to the library; kept Daisy's counsel, and told Mrs. Randolph she was to remain in her room to-day.
"She thinks too much," he said. "There is too much self-introversion."
"I know it! but what can we do?" said Mr. Randolph. "She has been kept from books as much as possible."
"Amusement and the society of children."
"Ay, but she likes older society better."
"Good morning," said the doctor.
"Stay! Dr. Sandford, I have great confidence in you. I wish you would take in hand not Daisy's foot merely but the general management of her, and give us your advice. She has not gained, on the whole, this summer, and is very delicate."
"Rather--" said the doctor. And away he went.

CHAPTER III
.
Meanwhile Daisy turned away from her beautiful little ivory cathedral, and opened Mr. Dinwiddie's Bible. Her heart was not at all comforted yet; and indeed her talk with Dr. Sandford had rather roused her to keener discomfort. She had confessed herself wrong, and had told him the way to get right; yet she herself, in spite of knowing the way, was not right, but very far from it. So she felt. Her heart was very sore for the hurt she had suffered; it gave her a twinge every time she thought of the lotus carving of her spoon handle, and those odd representations of fish in the bowl of it. She lay over on her pillow, slowly turning and turning the pages of her Bible, and tear after tear slowly gathering one after another, and filling her eyes and rolling down to her pillow to make another wet spot. There was no harm in that, if that had been all. Daisy had reason. But what troubled her was, that she was so strongly displeased with her aunt Gary. She did not want to see her or hear her, and the thought of a kiss from her was unendurable. Nay, Daisy felt as if she would like to punish her, if she could; or at least to repossess herself of her stolen property by fair means or by foul. She was almost inclined to think that she must have it at all events. And at the same time, she had told Dr. Sandford that she was not right. So Daisy lay slowly turning the pages of her Bible, looking for some word that might catch her eye and be a help to her. There were a good many marks in the Bible, scattered here and there, made by its former owner. One of these stopped Daisy's search, and gave her something to think of. It stood opposite these words:
"I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you that ye walk worthy of the vocation wherewith ye are called."
Daisy considered that. What "vocation" meant, she did not know, nor who was "the prisoner of the Lord," nor what that could mean; but yet she caught at something of the sense. "Walk worthy," she understood that; and guessed what "vocation" stood for. Ay! that was just it, and that was just what Daisy was not doing. The next words, too, were plain enough.
"With all lowliness and meekness, with long-suffering, forbearing one another in love."
"Forbearing one another"--easy to read, how hard to do! Mrs. Gary's image was very ugly yet to Daisy. Could she speak pleasantly to her aunt? could she even look pleasantly at her? could she