"But, Dr. Sandford, how does she do how does she manage?"
"In some way that would be difficult for you and me to understand, I suppose like the ways of the beavers and wasps."
"I can understand those," said Daisy, "they were made to get along as they do; they have got all they want."
Daisy was silent, musing, for a little time; then she broke out again.
"Isn't she very miserable, Dr. Sandford?"
"She is a very crabbed old thing, so the inference is fair that she is miserable. In fact, I do not see how she can avoid it."
Daisy pondered perhaps this misery which she could so little imagine; however, she let the subject drop as to any more words about it. She was only what the doctor called "quaintly sober," all the rest of the way.
"Why, she looks child-like and bright enough now," said Mrs.
Sandford, to whom he made the remark.
Daisy and Nora were exchanging mutual gratulations. The doctor looked at them.
"At the rate in which she is growing old," said he, "she will have the soul of Methuselah in a body of twenty years."