"Why won't it do you good, my dear?" asked Mr. Bennet, bending down to look into her eyes.
"I'm tired," Daisy said. "But there's nobody else to take care of father."
"O yes; there's Mrs. Davis to take care of you both," said Mr. Bennet cheerily. "Where do you feel tired? All over?"
"Yes, everywhere," said Daisy. "And my legs are so heavy, I can't move them,—and my head too."
The doctor's broad hand was laid on Daisy's forehead, not pressing much; yet she moaned, and for an instant her eyes had a wandering look.
"She can't bear that, sir," Mary Davis said. "Her head do seem very bad still."
"Yes. She mustn't see her father yet," said Mr. Bennet decidedly. "Keep her as quiet as possible, and if Mrs. Simmons comes in from over the way, don't you have too much talk."
"No, sir," said Mary Davis.
"I like Mrs. Simmons," said Daisy. "She is kind—and so big—"
"Well, yes, she's big undoubtedly," said the doctor. "Much bigger than you will ever be, Daisy."