"It may be, papa. Suppose the whole is twice as large as it used to be?"
"That is a good specimen of woman's reasoning. But you have not told me all yet, Daisy. Who is it that holds the other half?"
There was so much soreness and disappointment shown in papa's words, rather in the manner of them, that it was extremely difficult for me to carry on the conversation. Tears are a help, I suppose, to other women. They do not come to me, not at such times. I stood still in papa's arms, with a kind of dry heartache. The pain in his words was a terrible trial to me. He folded me close again and kissed me over and over, and then whispered, -
"Who is it, Daisy?"
"Papa, it was at West Point. I never meant it, and never knew it, until I could not help it."
"At West Point!" said papa.
"Two years ago, when Dr. Sandford took me there."
"It is not Dr. Sandford!"
"Oh, no, papa! He is not to blame. He did everything he could to take care of me. He knows nothing it all about it."
"Who is it, then?"