"Yes, sir."
"Daisy, will you excuse me for asking, why you should be on any terms whatever with Molly Skelton?"
"She is so unhappy, Dr. Sandford,"—Daisy said, looking up again.
"And do you think you can do anything to make her less unhappy?"
"I thought"—Daisy did not look up now, but the doctor watching her saw a witnessing tinge that he knew coming about her eyelids, and a softened line of lip, that made him listen the closer,—"I thought—I might teach her something that would make her happy,—if I could."
"What would you teach her, Daisy?"
"I would teach her to read—perhaps—I thought; if she would like me and let me."
"Is reading a specific for happiness?"
"No sir—but—the Bible!" Daisy said with a sudden glance. And so clear and sure the speech of her childish eye was, that the doctor though believing nothing of it would not breathe a question of that which she believed.
"O that is it!" he said. "Well, Daisy, this is the beginning; but though I came in upon the middle of the subject I do not understand it yet. Why did not the rose tree get to its destination?"