"Or perhaps you will think as he does."
I was silent. I wondered if that could be possible—if I too could have my eyes blinded as I saw other people's were.
"Little Daisy," said my friend the doctor, "but you are getting to be not little Daisy. How old are you?"
"I shall be fourteen in June."
"Fourteen. Well, it is no wonder that my friend whom I left a philosopher at ten years old, I should find a woman at fourteen; but Daisy, you must not take it on your heart that you have to teach all the ignorant and help all the distressed that come in your way; because simply you cannot do it."
I looked up at him. I could not tell him what I thought, because he would not, I feared, understand it. Christ came to do just such work, and His servants must have it on their hearts to do the same. I cannot tell what was in my look, but I thought the doctor's face changed.
"One Molly Skelton will do for one four years," he said as he rose up. "Come, Daisy."
"But, Dr. Sandford," I said, as I followed him, "you will not do anything about sending Margaret back?"
"Nothing, till you do, Daisy."
Arrived at home, the doctor made me drink a raw egg, and lie down on Mrs. Sandford's sofa; and he sat down and looked at me.