"I want to try. Please—oh, please, do, quickly."
Mary relaxed partially her firm hold, intending to do no more, but at the same instant Daisy with a quick movement pushed both her hands away. It was the work of a moment. Before Mary could grasp her again, Daisy had sunk in a heap on the ground.
"O Nursie, I can't, I can't," she said despairingly. "Oh, what shall I do?"
Mary uttered no reproaches. She lifted Daisy up from the floor, not without difficulty, laid her in the bed, and drew the clothes over her. Daisy hid her face in the pillow, with a burst of heart-broken sobbing.
"I did think I should be able," she moaned. "I didn't think it would be so bad. Nursie, I don't believe I shall ever be able to walk again. And what will father say?"
"There's no use looking forward for troubles that mayn't ever come," said Mary quietly. "If the trouble is sent by God, Mr. Meads'll have to bear it, and so will you, Miss Daisy. But you don't know yet as it will come. Nobody can tell yet. It's as like as not you'll be walking all right in a few weeks or months."
"Does Mr. Bennet say so?" asked poor Daisy, weeping still.
"He says it's a good sign that you're able to bear sitting up a bit. He says he don't know how long it'll be, but he hopes you'll get on better by-and-by."
Daisy fell into a fresh fit of sobs. "Oh, I did think I should be able to stand just for a moment," she said. "I did think I could. And it seemed as if I hadn't the least feeling in my legs."
"And you are so weak too," said Mary. "That makes the matter worse."