The sympathy was a little too trying. Tears started to the child's eyes. She said with a most gentle, loving accent, "I don't mind, papa. It will be better by and by. I am very happy."
An indignant question as to the happiness which had been so rudely shaken, was on Mr. Randolph's lips. He remembered Daisy must not be excited; nevertheless, he wondered, for he saw the child's eyes full, and knew that the brow was drawn with pain; and the poor little thin face was as white as a sheet. What did she mean by talking about being happy?
"Daisy, I have brought you some oranges."
"Thank you, papa! May I have one now?"
Silently, and almost sternly, Mr. Randolph stood and pared the orange with a fruit knife he had thought to bring that too and fed Daisy with it, bit by bit. It was pleasant and novel to Daisy to have her father serve her so; generally others had done it when there had been occasion. Mr. Randolph did it nicely, while his thoughts worked.
"What are you going to do to-night, papa?" she said, when the orange was finished and he stood looking at her.
"Stay here with you."
"But, papa, how can you sleep?"
"I can do without sleeping, if it is necessary. I will take a chair here in the doorway, and be near if you want anything."
"Oh, I shall not want anything, papa, except what Juanita can give me."