Part 3 (2/2)
”Does that no tell you something?”
”What does it tell me?” I said, scarce able to command my words, under the power of a.s.sociation, or memory, which was laying its message on my heart, though it was a flower that bore the message. Inanimate things do that sometimes - I think, often, - when the ear of the soul is open to hear them; and flowers in especial are the Lord's messengers and speak what He gives them. I knew this one spoke to me.
”Listen, and see,” Miss Cardigan said.
I looked, and as I looked, these words came up in my mind -
”Why are ye fearful, O ye of little faith?”
”The Lord over all is rich unto all that call upon Him.”
And still as I looked, I remembered, - ”In all their afflictions He was afflicted;” - and, ”My G.o.d shall supply all your need, according to His riches in glory by Christ Jesus.”
The words came into my head; but apart from the words, the rose seemed to say all these things to me. People who never heard flowers talk would think me fanciful, I suppose.
”And you will go to that city of trouble, and you will not let Christian know?” Miss Cardigan said after a while.
”Yes ma'am. - No ma'am,” I answered.
”Suppose he should be angry about it?”
”Does he get angry?” I asked; and his aunt laughed.
”Does the child think he is perfect?”
”No, certainly,” I said; ”of course he has faults; but, Miss Cardigan, I did not think anger was one of them, - or getting angry.”
”He will never get angry with you, Daisy, it is my firm belief.”
”But does he, easily, with other people?”
”There! I don't know,” she said. ”He used to be gay quick with his temper, for all so gentle as he is. I wouldn't try him too far, Daisy, with not letting him know.”
”I cannot tell him -” I said, sighing.
For I knew, better than she did, what thorough good care would be taken of me, and what small mercy such a visitor as Mr.
Thorold would meet at the hands of my guardians. So with a doubtful heart I kissed Miss Cardigan, and went back over the way to prepare for my journey. Which was, however, thrown over by a storm till the next week.
The journey made my heart beat, in spite of all my doubts. It was strange, to see the uniforms and military caps which sprinkled every a.s.semblage of people, in or out of the cars.
They would have kept my thoughts to one theme, even if wandering had been possible. The war, - the recruiting for the war, - the coming struggle, - the large and determined preparation making to meet it, - I saw the tokens of these things everywhere, and heard them on every hand. The long day's ride to Was.h.i.+ngton was a long fever dream, as it seems to me now; it seemed a little so to me then.
It was dark when we reached Was.h.i.+ngton; but the thought that now became present with me, that anywhere Thorold might be, could scarce be kept in check by the reflection that he certainly would not be at the railway station. He was not there; and Dr. Sandford was; and a carriage presently conveyed us to the house where rooms for us were provided. Not a hotel, I was sorry to find. By no chance could I see Thorold elsewhere than in a hotel.
Supper was very full of talk. Mrs. Sandford wanted to know everything; from the state of the capital and the military situation and prospects for the nation, to the openings for enjoyment or excitement which might await ourselves. The doctor answered her fast enough; but I noticed that he often looked at me.
”Are you tired?” he asked me at length; and there was a tone of gentle deference in his question, such as I often heard from Dr. Sandford. I saw that my silence struck him.
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