"No, Oh, no, mamma!"
"Then it is one of these. Daisy, I protest I have not skill enough to find out which of them; but you know, and that is sufficient. And they must know too; there can be no more of this three-cornered game. It is time to put an end to it. I have read you, if you have not read yourself; and now, my child, you must be content to let the rose blossom, that you keep so carefully folded up in its green leaves. One of these gentlemen will leave us presently; and the other, whichever it is, I shall consider and treat as your acknowledged suitor; and so must you, Daisy. He will be going home to the war, he too, in a short time more; and he must go with the distinct understanding that when the war is over, you will reward him as he wants to be rewarded. Not; till then, child. You will have time enough to think about it."
My mother had shut my lips. I was afraid to say anything good or bad. She had read me; yes, I felt that she had, when she looked into my face and touched my cheeks and kissed my lips, which I knew well enough were trembling, as she had said. She had read me, all but the name in my heart. What if she had read that? The least movement now on my part might bring it to the light; what if it came? I did not know what then, and I was greatly afraid. An old awe of my mother and sense of her power, as well as knowledge of her invincible determination, filled me with doubt and fear. She might write to Mr. Thorold at once and forbid him ever to think of me; she might send him word that I was engaged to Mr. De Saussure. And indeed I might also possibly clear my own action to Mr. Thorold; but change hers, never. My faith failed, I believe. I was like Abraham when he went into Egypt and feared somebody would kill him to get possession of his wife. I did not, like him, resort to a fiction for my safety; but neither did I trust God and dare tell the truth.
My own will was as good as mamma's. I was not afraid of weakly yielding some time or other; I was only afraid of her outside measures.
She resumed her occupation of trying laces and jewels on me; finally laughed, chucked me under the chin, kissed me, called me a pretty goose, and bade me go and dress myself "for whomever I liked best." I went to my room to have the heartache.
I had given up the management of myself; I was not struggling now; I knew there would be a way out of all my perplexities some time; but nevertheless my heart ached. I did dress myself, however, for that is an important part of a woman's work; and I went down stairs with a vague hope in my heart that I might see Hugh and somehow enlist him on my side, so far at least as to make him delay his departure; though I could not imagine how I could ask it, nor what I could say to him of any sort that would benefit me or that would not do him harm. But I thought in vain. I did not see him. Mr. De Saussure came, and played chess with me all the evening. I played very ill, and he won every game, till I thought he would stop for the very stupidness of it.
Some painful days followed that day; during which mamma managed to make me accept Mr. De Saussure's attentions in public and in private. She managed it; I could not escape them without making a violent protest, and I did not of course choose that. Hugh Marshall was gone; he had come only to take a hurried leave of us; suddenly obliged to return home, he said; "he had lingered too long." Mr. De Saussure's eyes flashed with I triumph; every line of mamma's face (to me) expressed satisfaction, of course gracefully concealed from everybody else. But Hugh and I parted with a great grasp of the hand, which I am sure came from both our hearts and left mine very sore. Then he was gone. After that, Mr. De Saussure took Hugh's place and his own too in our little society; and for a few days things went on in a train which I knew was preparing mischief.
Then one night the explosion came. We were out on the lake in a boat; mamma, Mr. De Saussure, and I; we had gone to see the colours come and go on the great head of Mont Blanc. In the glory of the sight, I had forgotten who was with me and where I was, for the moment; and I was thinking of the colours and lights of the New Jerusalem, than which those before me seemed scarcely less unearthly. Thinking, with a pang at the distance between; with a longing for those pure heights where human life never casts its flickering shadow; with a cry for Thorold in my heart, whom every sight of joy or beauty was sure to bring before me. I was rudely recalled from my momentary dream, though it was by my mother's soft voice.
"Daisy -"
I started and came back to earth and the Lake of Geneva.