CHAPTER XXXVIII.
SOMETHING WRONG.
The doctor's horse was before the door, and Daisy was on the piazza. The doctor came out, ready for his day's work.
"Do you want me to do anything for you at Melbourne, Daisy?"
"Cannot I go home to-day, Dr. Sandford?"
"I do not know. Supposing that you be still kept in banishment
what then?"
Daisy struggled with herself succeeded, and spoke calmly. "I should like to have Loupe sent, Dr. Sandford, if you please."
"Loupe? what is that? What is Loupe, Daisy?"
"My pony, sir. My pony-chaise."
"Oh! Not to drive to Melbourne?"
Daisy met the doctor's blue eye full, and answered with guileless submission.
"No, sir."
"I will send Loupe. By the way Daisy, have you business on hand?"
"Yes, sir."
"So much that you can do none for me?"
"Oh, no, sir. I have not a great deal of business. What may I do, Dr. Sandford?"
"Can you go to Crum Elbow?"
"Yes, sir. I have got to go there."
"All right, then. Daisy, there is a poor family down by the railway that were burnt out a night or two ago; they have lost everything. The neighbours will have to supply them with a few things. Will you go to the village and buy clothing for two little children, six and seven years old? One is a girl, the other a boy."
The doctor took out his pocket-book and began to look over bank bills.
"Dresses, do you mean, Dr. Sandford? and a boy's dress?"
"I mean, everything they need to put on dresses and petticoats, and jacket and trousers, and a shirt or two for the boy. Here is money, Daisy; spend whatever you find needful."
"But, Dr. Sandford "
"Well?"
"I don't believe Mr. Lamb keeps those things ready made."
"I am sure he does not. Buy the stuff, Daisy all the stuff we will see about getting it made afterwards. You can consult my sister, Mrs. Sandford, about quantities and all that; or I dare say the storekeeper can tell you."
So away went the doctor. Daisy felt in great need of consulting somebody; but Mrs. Sandford was busy, and so engaged that there was no chance for several hours. Not indeed before the pony chaise came; and Daisy resolved then to wait no longer, but to do some other business first.
The news that she eagerly asked for from Melbourne was not much when she got it. Sam knew little; he believed Mr. Randolph was better, he said; but his tone of voice was not very encouraging, and Daisy drove off to Juanita's cottage. There was one person, she knew, who could feel with her; and she went with a sort of eagerness up the grassy pathway from the road to the cottage door, to get that sympathy.
Juanita was within, busy at some ironing. The work fell from her hands, and the iron was set down with an expression of pleasure as she saw Daisy come in. The next minute her tone changed and her look.
"What ails my love?"
"Juanita " said Daisy, standing still and pale by the ironing table, "haven't you heard? Papa "
"What, Miss Daisy?"
"Papa he was knocked off his horse yesterday and they won't let me see him!"
So far Daisy's power of composure went, and no further. With that last word her voice failed. She threw her arms around Juanita, and hiding her face in her gown, burst into such tears as Daisy rarely shed at all; very rarely under any one's observation. Juanita, very much startled, sat down and drew the child into her arms, so far as she could; for Daisy had sunk on her knees, and with her face in Juanita's lap was weeping all her heart out. Mrs. Benoit hardly knew how to ask questions.
"Why must not Miss Daisy see her papa?"
"I don't know! I suppose he's not well enough."
Juanita breathed more freely.
"Let us pray for him, Miss Daisy."
"Oh, yes, Juanita, do! "
There was an intensity of meaning in these words and in Daisy's hurried assuming of another place and posture to leave Juanita free to kneel too, that almost took away the black woman's power of speech. She read what was breaking the child's heart; she knew what for was that suppressed cry of longing. For a moment Juanita was silent. But she had long known not only trouble but the Refuge from trouble; and to that Refuge she now went, and carried Daisy. As one goes who has often been there; who has many a time proved it a sure Refuge; who knows it sure and safe and unfailing. So she prayed; while Daisy's sobs at first were excessive, and then by degrees calmed and quieted and ceased. They were quite still before Juanita finished; and when they rose up from their knees Daisy's face was composed again. Then she came and stood with her hand on Juanita's shoulder, both of them silent; till Daisy put her lips to the fine olive-dark cheek of the old woman and kissed it. Juanita drew her into her arms, and Daisy sat there, nestling and tired.
"Can Miss Daisy trust the Lord?"
"Trust Him, how, Juanita."
"That He do no harm to His little child."
"Oh, it isn't me, Juanita " Daisy said, with a very tender and sad accent.
"When Joseph my love knows the story when he was sold away from his father and home, to be servant of strangers far off maybe he thought it was hard times. But the Lord meant it for good, and the father and the child came together again, in a happy day."
Daisy rose up, or rather raised her head, and looked steadily in her friend's face as if to see what this might mean.
"The Lord knoweth them that trust in Him," said the black woman.
Daisy's head went down again; and there was a long silence. It was broken at last by Juanita's offering her some refreshment; and then Daisy started up to the business on hand. She explained to Juanita where she was staying, and what she had that morning to do. Meanwhile Juanita made her take some bread and milk.
"So how much must I get, Juanita? can you tell me? how much for two little frocks, and two little petticoats, and one suit of boy's clothes?"
"My love knows, it must be accordin' to the stuff. If the stuff narrow, she want more; if wide, she want less."
"Then you cannot tell me; and Mrs. Sandford could not either. And I cannot tell. What shall I do?"
"Mrs. Sandford maybe get the things for Miss Daisy."
"No, she must not. Dr. Sandford wants me to do it. I must get them, Juanita."
"H'm! Suppose I put up my irons and walk round to the village
and Miss Daisy go in her shay."
"To the store!" cried Daisy. "Oh, yes, Juanita; get ready, and
I will take you with me. Then you can tell me all about it."
Juanita demurred and objected to this proposal, but Daisy was greatly pleased and would have it so. Mrs. Benoit put up her ironing work, and arrayed her head in a new clean bright handkerchief, wonderfully put on; she was ready then; and Sam grinned to see the tall fine figure of the old coloured woman sitting in the pony-chaise by the side of his little mistress. It was as good to Daisy as anything could have been, that day. They drove into Crum Elbow, went to the store; and there she and Juanita had a pretty large morning's business in choosing the various goods Dr. Sandford had desired Daisy to get. Daisy got excited over it. Calico for a little frock, and muslin for the underclothes, and stuff for the boy's jacket and trousers and shirt; Juanita knew the quantities necessary, and Daisy had only the trouble of choice and judgment of various kinds. But that was a great responsibility, seeing she was doing it for Dr. Sandford. It took a good while. Then Daisy drove Juanita home again, gave her another kiss, and with her carriage load of dry goods, and a tired and hungry little body, went home to Mrs. Sandford's.
It was then pretty late in the day, and the doctor not come in. Daisy dressed, and went down to the drawing-room to wait for him. Not long this time. There was a certain air of calm strength about Dr. Sandford's face and cool blue eye, that Daisy loved; she felt she loved it now, as she saw him come in; she trusted him. He spoke first to his brother and sister; then came where Daisy was standing, sat down on the sofa and placed her beside him.
"I have no bad news for you, Daisy," he said, kindly, "and not the good news neither that you are looking for. Your father is no worse, though it will require several days to let him recover from the immediate effects of his accident. The quieter he is meanwhile the better."
"And mamma she said? "
"She said yes, you have guessed it; she would like to have you remain here for a few days longer. She thinks you are better under my care than under hers."
"Under my care, I think it is," said Mrs. Sandford.
"Can you bear it, Daisy?"
She looked up meekly, and answered, "Yes, Dr. Sandford." So meekly that the doctor's eye took special note of her.
"Have you been to Crum Elbow to-day?"
"Yes, sir. I got all the things."
"All of them?"
"Yes, sir."
"What reward shall I give you?"
She had been speaking with a sad meekness, a sober self- restraint, unlike her years. If Dr. Sandford meant to break it up, which I think he did, he had partial success. Daisy looked up and smiled at him. But yet it was a meek smile, and sad even in its composed denial of any notion of reward. Not satisfactory to the doctor.
"I always repay anybody that does me any service," he went on.
"Ought one always to do that?" said Daisy.
"What is your judgment?"
"I think everybody could not."
"Why not?"
"Some people have nothing to pay with, for things that are done for them."
"I do not believe that."
"Some people, Dr. Sandford?"
"Whom do you know in that condition for instance?"
"Why, I for instance."
"You! What cannot you pay for?"
"A great many things," said Daisy, slowly. "Hardly anything. I am only a child."
"How is it about Molly Skelton? Does she pay you for the various attentions she receives from you?"
"Pay me, Dr. Sandford! I do not want pay."
"You are very unlike me, then," said the doctor; "that is all
I have to say."
"Why, Dr. Sandford, what pay could she give me?"
"Don't you get any, then?"
"Why, no, sir," said Daisy, eagerly answering the doctor's blue eye. "Except yes, of course, I get a sort of pay; but Molly does not yes she does give it to me; but I mean, she does not mean to pay me."
The doctor smiled, one of those rare pleasant smiles, that showed his white teeth in a way that Daisy liked; it was only a glimmer.
"What sort of pay is that? which she gives, and does not mean to give, and you take and do not ask for?"
"Oh! that sort of pay!" said Daisy. "Is it that sort you mean, Dr. Sandford?"
"That is one sort."
"But I mean, is it the sort that you always give, you say?"
"Always, when people deserve it. And then, do you not think it is natural to wish to give them, if you can, some other sort of pay?"
"I think it is," said Daisy, sedately.
"I am glad you do not disapprove of it."
"But I do not think people want that other kind of pay, Dr.
Sandford."
"Perhaps not. I suppose it is a selfish gratification of oneself to give it."
Daisy looked so earnestly and so curiously at him, as if to see what all this was about, that the doctor must have had good command of his lips not to smile again.
They went in to dinner just then and the conversation stopped. But though not talked to, Daisy was looked after; and when she had forgotten all about dinner, and was thinking mournfully of what was going on at home, a slice of roast beef or a nice peach would come on her plate with a word from the doctor "You are to eat that, Daisy" and though he said no more, somehow Daisy always chose to obey him. At last they went into the drawing-room again, and were drinking coffee. Daisy was somewhat comforted; she thought Dr. Sandford did not act as if there were anything very dreadful the matter at home.
"Daisy," said the doctor, "you have done work for me to-day would you object to be paid?"
Daisy looked up smiling; it dependied on what the pay might be, she thought; but she said nothing.
"Would it be violently against your principles?"
"I do not want pay, Dr. Sandford."
"Not if I were to offer to give you a sight of those little baskets on the frond of the Marchantia?"
Daisy's face all changed; but she said in the quietest manner,
"Can you do that, Dr. Sandford?"
"Come with me."
He held out his hand, which Daisy willingly took, and they went upstairs together. Just short of her room the doctor stopped, and turned into his own. This was a very plain apartment; there was no beauty of furniture, though it struck Daisy there was a great deal of something. There were boxes, and cabinets, and shelves full of books and boxes, and book- cases, and one or two tables. Yet it was not a pretty-looking room, like the others in Mrs. Sandford's house. Daisy was a little disappointed. The doctor, however, gave her a chair, and then brought one of the unlikely deal boxes to the table and opened it. Daisy forgot everything. There appeared a polished, very odd brass machine, which the doctor took out and spent some time in adjusting. Daisy patiently looked on.
"Do you know what this is, Daisy?"
"No, sir."
"It is a microscope. And looking through this, you will see what you could not see with your two eyes alone; there are some strong magnifying glasses here and I found to-day some plants of Marchantia growing in a sheltered place. Here is one of the baskets for you "
"Is it on that bit of green leaf?"
"Yes, but you can see nothing there. Try this view."
He stood back and helped Daisy to take a kneeling position in her chair, so that her eye could reach the eye-piece of the microscope. Daisy looked, took her eye away to give a wondering glance of inquiry at her friend's face, and then applied it to the microscope again; a pink hue of delight actually spreading over her poor little pale cheeks. It was so beautiful, so wonderful. Again Daisy took her eye away to examine out of the glass the coarse little bit of green leaf that lay upon the stand; and looked back at the show in the microscope with a bewitched mind. It seemed as if she could never weary of looking from one to the other. The doctor bade her take her own time, and Daisy took a good deal.
"What stuffs did you buy this morning?" the doctor asked.
Daisy drew back from the microscope.
"I got all you told me, sir?"
"Exactly. I forget what that was."
"I bought a little piece of red and green linsey-woolsey for a frock for the little girl and some brown strong stuff for the boy's suit; and then white muslin to make things for the girl, and blue check for the boy's shirt."
"Just right. Did your money hold out?"
"Oh, I had three dollars and two shillings left, Dr. Sandford.
Two shillings and sixpence, I believe."
"You did well." The doctor was arranging something else in the microscope. He had taken out the bit of liverwort.
"I had Juanita to help me," said Daisy.
"How do you suppose I am going to get all those things made up?" said the doctor.
"Won't Mrs. Sandford attend to it?"
"Mrs. Sandford has her own contribution to attend to. I do not wish to give her mine too."
"Cannot the children's mother make the things?"
The doctor's lip curled in funny fashion.
"They have no mother, I think. There is an old aunt, or grandmother, or something, that does not take care of' the children. I shall not trust the business certainly to her."
Daisy wondered a little that Mrs. Sandford, who was so good- natured, could not do what was needful; but she said nothing.
"I think I shall turn over the whole thing in charge to you,
Daisy."
"But, Dr. Sandford, what can I do?"
"Drive down with me to-morrow and see how big the children are, and then have the things made."
"But I am afraid I do not know enough."
"I dare say you can find out. I do not know enough that is very certain; and I have other things to attend to besides overseeing mantua-makers."
"Our seamstress could do it, if I could see her."
"Very well, then some other seamstress can. Now, Daisy you may look at this."
"What a beautiful thing! But what is it, Dr. Sandford?"
"What does it look like?"
"It does not look like anything that I ever saw."
"It is a scale from a butterfly's wing."
"Why, it is as large as a small butterfly," said Daisy.
The doctor showed her where the little scale lay, so little that she could hardly see it out of the glass; and Daisy went back to the contemplation of its magnified beauty with immense admiration. Then her friend let her see the eye of a bee, and the tongue of a fly, and divers other wonders, which kept Daisy busy until an hour which was late for her. Busy and delightfully amused.