Daisy in the Field Part 61

It was late in the summer, or early in September; I forget which. We were as we had been; nothing in our position changed. Mamma at the moment was busy over other prints, having thrown this down; and feeling my cheeks grow white as I sat there, I held the paper to shield my face and pondered what I should do. The instant thought had been, "I must go to him." The second brought difficulties. How to meet the difficulties, I sat thinking; that I must go to Preston I never doubted for a moment. I sat in a maze; till an exclamation from my mother brought my paper shield down.

"Here's a letter from the doctor, Daisy; he says your cousin is in the hospital."

"_His_ hospital?" I asked.

"I suppose so; he does not say that. But he says he is badly wounded. I wonder how he comes to be in Washington?"

"Taken prisoner, mamma."

"Yes, - wounded," mamma said bitterly. "That's the only way he could. Dr. Sandford bids me let his mother know. She can't go to him; even if my letter could reach her in time and she could get to Washington, which I don't believe she could; she is too ill herself. I shall not write to her."

"Let us go, mamma; you and I."

"I?" said mamma. "_I_ go to that den of thieves? No; I shall not go to Washington, unless I am dragged there."

"But Preston, mamma; think!"

"I am tired of thinking, Daisy. There is no good in thinking.

This is the work of your favourite Northern swords and guns; I hope you enjoy it."

"I Would like to remedy it, mamma; to do something at least.

Mamma, do let us go to Preston!"

I spoke very earnestly, and I believe with tears. Mamma looked at me.

"Why, do you care for him?" she asked.

"Very much!" I said weeping.

"I did not know you had any affection for anything South, except the coloured people."

"Mamma, let us go to Preston. He must want us so much!"

"I cannot go to Washington, Daisy."

"Can you spare me, mamma? I will go."

"Do you love Preston Gary?" said mamma, sitting up-right to look at me.

"Mamma, I always loved him. You know I did."

"Why did you not say so before?"

"I did say so, mamma, whenever I was asked. Will you let me go? O mamma, let me go!"

"What could you do, child? he is in the hospital."

"Mamma, he may want so many things; I know he must want some things."

"It is vain talking. You cannot go alone, Daisy."

"No, ma'am; but if I could get a good safe friend to go with me?"

"I do not know such a person in this place."

"I do, mamma, - just the person."

"Not a fit person for you to travel with."

"Yes, mamma, just the one; safe and wise to take care of me.

And if I were once there, Dr. Sandford would do anything for me."

Mamma pondered my words, but would not yield to them. I wept half the evening, I think, with a strange strain on my heart that said I must go to Preston. Childish memories came thick about me, and later memories; and I could not bear the idea of his dying, perhaps, alone in a hospital, without one near to say a word of truth or help him in any wish or want that went beyond the wants of the body. Would even those be met? My nerves were unstrung.

"Do stop your tears, Daisy!" mamma said at length. "I can't bear them. I never saw you do so before."

"Mamma, I must go to Preston."

"If you could go there properly, child, and had any one to take care of you; as it is, it is impossible."

I half thought it was; I could not bend mamma. But while we sat there under the light of the lamp, and I was trying to do some work, which was every now and then wetted by a drop that would fall, a servant brought in a note to me. It was from Mrs. Sandford, in New York, on her way to Washington to look after a friend of her own; and asking if in any matter she could be of service to me or to mamma. I had got my opportunity now, and I managed to get mamma's consent. I answered Mrs. Sandford's note; packed up my things; and by the early train next morning started with her for Washington.

Mrs. Sandford was very kind, very glad to have me with her, very full of questions, of sympathy, of condolence, and of care; I remember all that, and how I took it at the time, feeling that Daisy and Daisy's life had changed since last I was under that same gentle and feeble guidance. And I remember what an undertone of music ran through my heart in the thought that I might perhaps hear of, or see, Mr. Thorold. Our journey was prosperous; and the next person we saw after arriving at our rooms was Dr. Sandford. He shook hands with his sister; and then, his eye lightened and his countenance altered as he turned to the other figure in the room and saw who it was.

"Daisy!" he exclaimed, warmly grasping my hand, - "Miss Randolph! where is Mrs. Randolph, and what brings you here?"

"Why, the train, to be sure, Grant," answered his sister-in- law. "What a man you are - for business! Do let Daisy rest and breathe and have something to eat, before she is obliged to give an account of herself. See, we are tired to death."

Perhaps she was, but I was not. However, the doctor and I both yielded. Mrs. Sandford and I withdrew to change our dresses, and then we had supper; but after supper, when she was again out of the room, Dr. Sandford turned to me and took my hand.

"I must go presently," he said. "Now, Miss Randolph, what is it?"

I sat down and he sat down beside me, still holding my hand, on a sofa in the room.

"Dr. Sandford, my cousin Gary is a prisoner and in the hospital. You wrote to mamma."

"Yes. I thought his mother might like to know."

"She is ill herself, in Georgia, and cannot come to Washington. Dr. Sandford, I want to go in and take care of him."

"You!" said the doctor. But whatever he thought, his countenance was impenetrable.

"You can manage that for me."

"Can I?" said he. "But, Daisy, you do not come under the regulations."

"That is no matter, Dr. Sandford."

"How is it no matter?"