"No—not that. Yes, I was troubled about that too. But what troubled me most was—that mamma would not let me speak to her, to tell her why I must not teach her. I must not say anything to her again, at all."
Dr. Sandford's eyes, looking, saw that Daisy had indeed spoken out her trouble now. Such a cloud of sorrow came over her brow; such witnessing redness about her eyelids, though Daisy let the witness of tears get no further.
"What do you suppose was your mother's purpose in making that last regulation?" he went on in a cool business tone.
"I don't know—I suppose to punish me,"—Daisy said faintly.
"Punish you for what?"
"Mamma did not like me to teach that little girl—and I had done it, I mean I had begun to do it, without asking her."
"Was it a great pleasure?" said the doctor.
"It would have been a great pleasure if I could have taught her to read," Daisy said, with her face brightening at the idea.
"I presume it would. Well Daisy, now you and I will arrange this affair. I do not consider it wholesome for you to engage in this particular amusement at this particular time; so I shall endorse Mrs. Randolph's prohibition; but I will go round—Where does this girl live, and who is she?"
"Her name is Hephzibah Harbonner; she lives in the village, on the road where the Episcopal church is—you know;—a little way further on. I guess it's a quarter of a mile."