"No, no. Christian, how imperious you are!"
"Yes," he said; "I will be so where you are concerned. What do you mean, Daisy? or what does he mean?"
"He is my guardian, you know," I said; "and he has sharp eyes; and he is careful of me."
"Very careful?" said Mr. Thorold, laughing and pressing my arm. "Daisy, I am your guardian while you are in Washington. I wish I had a right to say that you shall have nothing more to do with Dr. Sandford. But for the present I must mind my duty."
"And I mine," - I added, with my heart beating. Now it seemed a good opening for some of the things I had to say; yet my heart beat and I was silent.
"Yours, Daisy?" he said very tenderly. "What is yours? What present pressure of conscience is giving you something hard to do? I know it will be done! What work is this little soldier on?"
I could not tell him. I could not. My answer diverged.
"What are you on, Christian?"
"The same thing. Rather preparing for work - preparing others.
I am at that all day."
"And do you expect there will be real work, as you call it?
Will it come to that?"