"Yes, as I can. I have a kindly uncle and aunt, who have cared for me since father died, and a lot of cousins growing up into commonplace men and women. There are dozens of tender ties, but no real sympathy with my desires. Aunt thought I knew quite enough, and so I would for some lives. The longing and desire for other things, better things, helps me to understand her. But it was only a week or ten days ago—some strictures of the girls made her very unhappy——"
"She shouldn't have listened. The old adage is a good one," with a scornful laugh.
"She could not help it. I think some of the girls have not treated her kindly, they have even been rude. And it was mean to try to set her age so much farther on, and to call her an old maid."
"She doesn't look young."
"She will have a guardian for almost two years longer. I suppose in law you have to give your exact age. Some of the people I love best are very far from young."
"I suppose you love a great many!" with an emphasis as bitter as her tender voice could make. She could put anger in it, but bitterness never could be part and parcel of it.
"I love a few. I am not very rich in friends. But I know I am capable of loving a good many people for different qualities."
Helen stood up very straight. She was growing tall rapidly. There was firmness and character in every line of her face, and in her tone as well.
"I don't care for the thousandth part of anyone's love. And you said you would love me the best of anybody——"
"And so I did and do when you are not"—foolish, she was going to say, but she paused. "Oh, Daisy, can't you see it is the individuality, the qualities in a person that you love. And no two are alike. You are very dear and sweet. But I dare say you loved girls last year when I was not here, and when I am gone you will love someone else. I don't ask you to love me best of all, for there are, no doubt, more charming girls and Miss Craven did not demand that of me. It was because she seemed so glad of a little crumb, and I knew no one loved her——"