"No, sir."
There was something so exceedingly sweet in Daisy's expression of face, so unruffled in its loving calm and assurance, that Dr. Sandford received quite a new impression in his views of human character.
"I shall have an account to settle with that young Preston one of these days," he remarked, as he took Daisy's little form in his arms.
"Oh, he did nothing!" said Daisy. "It wasn't Preston at all.
He had nothing to do with it!"
"He had not?" said the doctor.
"Not at all; nor any other boy."
"Beyond my management, then!" said the doctor; and he moved off.
He had stood still to say that word or two; Daisy's arm was round his neck to help support herself; the two looked into each other's faces. Certainly that had come to pass which at one time she had thought unlikely; Daisy was very fond of the doctor.
He carried her now down to the library, and laid her on a sofa. Nobody at all was there. The long windows were standing open; the morning sweet air blew gently in; the books, and chairs, and tables which made the room pretty to Daisy's eyes, looked very pleasant after the long weeks in which she had not seen them. But along with her joy at seeing them again was mixed a vivid recollection of the terrible scene she had gone through there, a few days before her accident. However, nothing could make Daisy anything but happy just now.
"You must remain here until I come again," said the doctor; "and now I will send some of the rest of the family to you."