Melbourne House Part 85

"I told you the child would get ruined in that place," said Mrs. Randolph, after musing a few minutes over the little sheet of note-paper.

Mr. Randolph made a lather, and applied it. That might be the reason why he made no answer.

"I call it impertinence," the lady went on, "and very well- grown impertinence too ? from a child like that! It is the trick of all religious people, to think themselves better and wiser than the rest of the world; but I think Daisy has learnt the lesson early!"

Still silence on Mr. Randolph's part, and steady attention to his toilet duties.

"What notice do you mean to take of this?"

"I think, none at all."

"Mr. Randolph, Daisy is ruined!"

"I do not quite see it yet."

"I wish you would see it. She is full of stupid stiff ways, which will be habits fixed as iron in a little time, if we do not break them up. She does not act like a child."

"She is very like a child to me," said Mr. Randolph.

"You do not see. Do you observe her way whenever she sits down to table? She covers her face, and remains in silent prayer, I suppose, a minute or so." A slight laugh came from Mrs. Randolph with the words.

Mr. Randolph could not well laugh, for he was shaving. He remarked that he had never seen it.

"I wish you would remember and take notice. She does it regularly. And she is not a docile child any longer, I give you warning. You will find it very difficult to do anything with her in the way of breaking up this religious stiffness of hers."

Mr. Randolph was silent a while, and Mrs. Randolph looked vexed. At length he remarked that indirect ways were the best.

"It will take both," said his wife; "direct and indirect." And after that they went down to breakfast.

Mr. Randolph was the last, and he was not early; but this morning Daisy was later still. Her father watched for her coming, and did not see it after all; Daisy stole in so quietly, she was in her seat by his side before he had noticed her. Then, perceiving the gentle, sweet, quiet little face beside him, and recognising the timid feeling which made Daisy afraid to meet his eye, he could not refrain; ? he bent down and gave her a kiss. He was very much touched by the little fluttering start and glance which Daisy returned to this salutation, and he saw that a pink flash of pleasure came into her cheeks. Perhaps all this put the subject of watching her out of Mr. Randolph's head; he certainly did not see the minute, a few minutes later, when Daisy's hand stole to her brow, and her eyes were for a short s.p.a.ce hidden and her hand moveless. Mrs. Randolph saw it, and saw that he did not. Daisy had forgotten that anybody could see her. The thanksgiving of her heart had more burden to-day than the ordinary gifts of the morning which she was wont to remember. Her father was not angry with her! It took a load off Daisy's heart; and she looked so happy all breakfast time that Mr. Randolph was very much inclined to slight his wife's fears.

Juanita's constant habit of thankfulness and of expressing her thankfulness, during the weeks Daisy had spent with her, had gone down into the child's heart. With every meal, though taken by herself all alone, Daisy had seen the old woman acknowledging gratefully from whose hand she got it. And with other things beside meals; and it had seemed sweet and pleasant to Daisy to do so. At home, when she was suddenly transferred to her father's stately board, ? where every beauty and luxury were gathered together, and an array of friends to help each other enjoy it; and no one remembered, no one acknowledged that any grat.i.tude was due to the hand that had supplied the board and given the friends, ? Daisy's heart was pained by a great sense of want. Not thank G.o.d for all these things? give no acknowledgment of praise to Him? She could not bear to have it so.

She thought n.o.body would notice her, or know what she was doing if they did notice her; and she used to put her hand over her brow, and comfort her own heart with giving the thanks she wanted to express. She soon forgot to be afraid anybody would notice her. But Mrs. Randolph marked it all, and now never missed the minute when Daisy's face was s.h.i.+elded.

CHAPTER XXIV.

THE PIC-NIC PARTY.

The thing on hand now was the expedition to Silver Lake.

Daisy's foot and ankle were getting sufficient strength to bear all the work that need be asked of them; and it was best to go while the hot weather still lingered. It was early in September, and the day was fixed. Quite a party was going.

There were no visitors at Melbourne House now except Mrs. Gary and her children; but that brought the home party up to seven.

Dr. Sandford was going, of course. Then some other neighbours.

Mrs. Stanfield had promised to go, with her little daughter Ella, and her older daughter Theresa. Mrs. Fish was coming from another quarter of the country, with her children, Alexander and Frederica. Mr. Fish and Mr. Stanfield were to go too; and Mr. and Mrs. Sandford, the doctor's brother and sister-in-law. However, though this was to be such a strong muster, Daisy thought of only two or three of the number that concerned her personally. Preston and Ransom, of course; Alexander Fish; though the two latter she thought of as likely to make disturbance more than anything else; and Daisy liked a most lady-like quietness and propriety in everything in which she was engaged. But, besides these, there was only Ella Stanfield whose age would bring her into contact with Daisy; and Daisy, very much of late accustomed to being alone or with older people, looked with some doubtfulness at the prospect of having a young companion to entertain. With that exception, and it hardly made one, nothing could look brighter in the distance than Silver Lake.

Several days pa.s.sed between Daisy's giving the note to her father and the one fixed on for the expedition. In all that time Daisy was left to guess whether or not it had been seen and read by him. No sign or token told her; there was none; and Daisy could only conclude that he _must_ have seen it, because he could not very well help doing so. But she was not at all discouraged. Rather the contrary; seeing that certainly her father was not displeased with her.

In all these days too, Mr. Randolph had ample time and chance to observe Daisy's action which had so disturbed her mother at meal times. Yet hitherto he had never spoken of it. In fact it was so quietly done that often the moment escaped him; and at other times, Daisy's manner so asked for a s.h.i.+eld rather than a trumpet, and the little face that looked up from being covered with her hand was so bright and sweet, that perhaps his heart shrank from saying anything that would change the expression. At any rate, Daisy had been safe thus far.

Great preparations were making for the Silver Lake day.

Thursday it was to be. Wednesday evening, Dr. Sandford was at Melbourne. Daisy was considering the arrangements of a little packed basket of her own.

"Are you expecting to have a good time to-morrow, Daisy?" he asked.

Daisy smiled as she said yes.

"But you will have to keep quiet. I shall not let you run about like the rest."

"I can sit quiet and look at the lake," said Daisy; with so absolutely contented a face, that the doctor smiled.

"But in parties of pleasure, do you know, my friend, it generally happens that people cannot do what they expected to do."

"Then I can do something else," said Daisy, looking very fearless of anything disagreeable.

"Will you let your old friend, Nora Dinwiddie, join the party?"

"Nora! Oh, is Nora coming?" exclaimed Daisy.

"Mrs. Sandford commissioned me to make the enquiry, Mrs.

Randolph, whether one more would be too many? Her little relation, Daisy's friend I believe, has returned to her for the rest of the season."

"Certainly!" Mrs. Randolph said, ? "there was room for everybody."

The lady's manner told nothing; but, nevertheless, Daisy did not venture to show her joy. She did not say another word about Nora. The hour of meeting was determined, and the doctor withdrew. Daisy looked over the contents of her basket again with fresh satisfaction, made sure that all was right and everything there; and went to bed happy.

Thursday morning broke fair as eye could see. The September sun rose in a haze of warm rays; promising, as Mrs. Randolph said, that the heat would be stifling by and by. Daisy did not care, for her part. They had breakfast earlier than usual; for the plan was to get on the other side of the river before the sun should be too oppressive. They had scarcely risen from the table when the Sandford party drove up to the door. These were to go in a boat with the party from Melbourne House. Mr. and Mrs. Fish, from higher up the river, were to cross in their own boat, and join the rest at the spot appointed on the opposite sh.o.r.e. The Stanfields were to do the same, starting from a different point; friends having arrived that would swell their numbers beyond the original four.

Of all this, Daisy cared just for one thing; ? that Nora was come, and was to go in the boat with her, and no other. The meeting between the two children, on the steps at Melbourne, was most joyous. "Oh, Nora! I'm so glad you have come!" ? and, "Oh Daisy! I'm so glad to be here!" ? and a small host of small questions and answers, that indeed meant a great deal, but would not read for much.

"Oh, Nora, isn't it nice!" said Daisy, as they stood on the steps, while the carriages waited below before the door.

"It's grand," said Nora. "Why, aunt Frances says we shall be gone all day."

"To be sure, we shall," said Daisy. "Papa is going to fish; and so is Preston, and Dr. Sandford, and other people, I suppose; and some of the men take their tackle along too.

There is nice fish in the Lake."

"What men do you mean?" said Nora.

"Oh, the men that manage the boat, and carry the baskets; there are ever so many baskets to go, you know; and the men must carry them; because the path won't let a wagon go."

"Who is going to carry you?" said Dr. Sandford coming out behind them.

"Me?" said Daisy.

"Yes."

"Why, I do not want anybody to carry me, Dr. Sandford."