"I knew you would not think Washington very safe ground for us," Mrs. Sandford rejoined.
"Mrs. Sandford is at her own risk. But I should hardly be doing the duty of a good guardian if I risked anything, where so important a charge is committed to me. I shall get you away from here without delay. How soon can you both be ready?"
I wanted to say I was ready, but I could not get out the words. My two friends debated the matter, and the doctor fixed his own time. The day after to-morrow.
It was good for me, that I had given up the charge of my own interests; or I never could have maintained the ease of manner which it was desirable to maintain in face of this proposition. I was very calm, remembering that "a man's heart deviseth his way, but the Lord directeth his steps." I went on with my worsted stitching under the eye of the doctor. I do not know why he watched me so.
"Has anybody ventured to tell you, Miss Randolph, that you have changed within a few months?" This question was put after I had forgotten the doctor and was marching somewhere before a battery in Patterson's column. I started a little.
"Yes, indeed! has she not?" exclaimed Mrs. Sandford. "Changed!
She came out of school the dearest little schoolgirl that ever
lived; or I should say, she went back to school so, last year.
What has the year done to you, Daisy?"
"What has it done to me?" I replied, smiling at her. "How am I changed?"
"Changed!" Mrs. Sandford repeated. "Tell her, Grant, what is she now?"
"She would not thank me for telling her," said the doctor.
"But I will thank you, Mrs. Sandford," I said. "I was 'the dearest little schoolgirl.' "