So Daisy found plenty of helpers, who, so far from laughing at her mistakes and backwardness, were rather inclined to think her quick and industrious, as indeed she was, trying hard to make up for lost time, and "catch up" with those of her own age.
She was almost too eager about this, and had to be checked now and then, for since the long illness which had followed the shipwreck, Daisy had never been strong; and too much fatigue or study, or even too much play, would make her nervous and sick, and her little head would become confused and ache. So now and then Mrs. Forster would have to take the books from her, and forbid more study, sending her out to play, or to work in the plot of ground which had been given her for a garden of her own.
She was not always pleased at this, and sometimes would be rather fretful and impatient. But Mrs. Forster soon found a way to put a stop to this.
One afternoon she found the little girl bending over her slate with flushed and heated cheeks, anxious eyes, and trembling hands.
"Daisy," she said, quietly, "what are you doing? Miss Collins has not given you lessons out of school, has she?"
"No, ma'am," said Daisy; "but I asked Ella Ward to set me a whole lot of sums so that I could do them at home, and I can't make this one come right. I know it is not right, 'cause Ella put the answers on the other side of the slate, and mine won't come the same, all I can do."
Mrs. Forster took the slate from her hand.
"This sum is too hard for you, Daisy," she said: "you do not know enough arithmetic for this."
"It is not any harder than the sums Lola and Violet and the other girls as large as I am do," answered Daisy, looking ready to burst out crying; "and I have to do arithmetic with the very little ones, like Lily, and it makes me ashamed; so I want to go on all I can. Please give me the slate again, Aunt Gertrude," she added, as Mrs. Forster laid it beyond her reach.