"It will not improve you," said Mrs. Randolph drily.
"How has it wrought with Daisy?"
"Changed the child so that I do not recognize her. She never set up her own will before; and now she is as difficult to deal with as possible. She is an impersonation of obstinacy."
"Perhaps, after all, she is only following orders," said the Captain with daring coolness. "A soldier's duty makes him terribly obstinate sometimes. You must excuse me,—but you see I cannot help appreciating military qualities."
"Will you be good enough to say what you mean?" the lady asked with sufficient displeasure of manner.
"Only, that I believe in my soul Daisy takes her orders from higher authority than we do. And I have seen to-day—I declare! I have seen a style of obedience and soldierly following, that would win any sort of a field—ay, and die in it!" added the Captain musingly. "It is the sort of thing that gets promotion from the ranks."
"How did all this happen to-day?" asked Mr. Randolph, as the lady was now silent. "I have heard only a bit of it."
In answer to which, Capt. Drummond went into the details of the whole day's experience; told it point by point, and bit by bit; having a benevolent willingness that Daisy's father and mother should know, if they would, with what sort of a spirit they were dealing. He told the whole story; and nobody interrupted him.
"It is one thing," said the Captain thoughtfully as he concluded,—"it is one thing to kneel very devoutly and say after the minister, 'Lord, have mercy upon us, and write all these laws in our hearts;'—I have done that myself; but it gives one an entirely different feeling to see some one in whose heart they are written!"
"There is only one thing left for you, Capt. Drummond," said Mrs.
Randolph slightly; "to quit the army and take orders."