Part 23 (1/2)
”You and I cannot be on two sides of anything, Daisy?”
”Papa - you know on what side of most things I am -” I replied to this difficult question.
”Do I? No, I do not know that I do. What side is it, Daisy?”
”On the Lord's side, papa, when I can find out what that is.”
”Make me sure that you have found it, and I will be on that side too,” he said, as he kissed me.
The words filled me with a great joy. For they were not spoken in defiance of the supposed condition, but rather, as it seemed to me, in desire and love of it. Had papa come to that?
The new joy poured like a flood over all the dry places in my heart, which had got into a very dry state with hearing the conversation of the evening. I went to bed tired and happy.
Nevertheless I awoke to the consciousness that I had a nice piece of navigation before me, and plenty of rough water in all probability. The best thing would be for me to be as silent as possible. Could I be silent? They all wanted to hear what I would say. Every eye had sought mine this past evening.
I was the first in the breakfast-room, and papa was the next.
We were alone. He took me tenderly in his arms and held me fast, looking at me and kissing me by turns.
”Are you well now, papa?” I asked him. ”Are you quite well again?”
”Well enough,” he answered; ”not just as I was once.”
”Why not, papa?”
”I have never quite got over that unlucky fall. It has left my head a little shaky, Daisy; and my strength - Never mind! you are my strength now, my pet. We should have gone home before this, only for the troubles breaking out there.”
I leaned my head upon his breast, and wished the troubles were not! What a division those troubles made, unknown to him, between his heart's happiness and mine - yes, between him and me. Mamma came in and looked at us both.
”It is a very pretty picture,” she said. And she kissed me, while papa did not let me out of his arms. ”Daisy, you are a beauty.”
”She is a great deal better than a beauty,” said my father.
”But, now I look at you, Daisy - yes, you _are_ a beauty, certainly.”
They both laughed heartily at the colour which all this raised in my face.
”Most exquisite, her skin is,” said my mother, touching my cheek. ”Did you ever see anything superior to it, Mr.
Randolph? Rose leaves are not any better than that. Pshaw, Daisy! - you must get accustomed to hear people say it.”
”n.o.body shall say it to me, mamma, but you.”
”No,” said my father. ”That is my view of it, too.”
”Nonsense!” said mamma - ”there are a thousand ways of doing the same thing, and you cannot stop them all. Your hair is as fine as possible, too, Daisy, although it has not had me to take care of it.”
”But I did just as you told me with it, mamma,” I said.
She kissed me again. ”Did n.o.body ever tell you you were beautiful?” she asked archly. ”Yes, I know that you did just as I told you. You always did, and always will. But did you not know that you were beautiful?”
”Speak, Daisy,” said papa. Said as it was with a smile, it brought childish memories vividly back.