of those people - the peoplethat cultivate those lands; and so I suppose I shall not beworth a sixpence; for the land is not much without thepeople."
"You will not be the owner of them?"
"No."
"Why do you tell me that?" said Mr. Thorold gravely.
"I wanted you to know -" I said, hesitating and beginning verymuch to wish my words unsaid.
"And the question is, what I will do in the supposedcircumstances? Was that it?"
"I said that," - I assented.
"What shall I do?" said Mr. Thorold. "I don't know. If I am incamp, I will pitch a tent for my wife; it shall have softcarpets and damask cushions; as many servants as she likes,and one in especial who will take care that the others do herbidding; scanty accommodations, perhaps, but the air full ofwelcome. She will like it. If I am stationed in townsomewhere, I will fill her house with things to please her. IfI am at the old farm, I will make her confess, in a littlewhile, that it is the pleasantest place she ever saw in herlife. I don't know what I will do! I will do something to makeher ashamed she ever asked me such a question."
"Oh, don't!" said I, with my cheeks burning. "I am very muchashamed now."
"Do you acknowledge that?" he said, laughing and taking hisrevenge. "So you ought."
But then he made me sit down on the grass again and threwhimself at my feet, and began to talk of other things. Hewould not let me go back to the former subjects. He kept me ina state of amusement, making me talk too about what he would;and with the light of that last subject I had unluckilystarted, shining all over his face and sparkling in his eyeand smile, until my face was in a condition of permanentcolour. I had given him an advantage, and he took it andplayed with it. I resolved I would never give him another. Hehad gone back apparently to the mood of that evening at MissCardigan's; and was full of life and spirits and mischief. Icould do nothing but fall in with his mood and be happy;although I remembered I had not gained my point yet; and Ihalf suspected he had a mind I should not gain it. It was avery bright, short half hour; and then I reminded him it wasgrowing late.
"Moonlight -" he said. "There is a good large moon, Daisy."
"But Mrs. Sandford -" I said.
"She knows you are your own mistress."
"She _thinks_ I am," I said. "You know better."
"You are mine," said Mr. Thorold, with gentle gravity,immediately. "You shall command me. Do you say go, Daisy?"
"May I influence you in something else?" I said putting myhand in his to enforce my words.
"Eh?" said he, clasping the hand. "What, Daisy?"
"Christian, I want you not to write to my father and motheruntil I give you leave." I thought I would let go arguing andtry persuasion.
He looked away, and then looked at me; - a look full ofaffection, but I saw I had not moved him.
"I do not see how we can settle that, Daisy."
"But you said - you said -"
"What?"
"You said just now, you intimated, that my wishes would haveweight with you."
He laughed a little, a moved laugh, and kissed me. But it wasnot a kiss which carried any compromise.
"Weight with me? Yes, a little. But with me, Daisy. They mustnot change me into somebody not myself."
"Would that? -"
"If I could be content to have your faith in secret, or towait to know if I might have it at all? I must be somebody notmyself, Daisy."
I pondered and felt very grave. Was it true, that Mr. Thorold,though no Christian, was following a rule of action more nobleand good than I, who made such professions? It was noble, Ifelt that. Had my wish been cowardly and political? Must notopen truth be the best way always? Yet with my father andmother old experience had long ago taught me to hold my tongueand not speak till the time came. Which was right? I felt thathis rule of action crossed all my _inner_ nature, if it were notindeed the habit which had become second nature. Mr. Thoroldwatched me.
"What is it, Daisy? - my Daisy?" he asked with a tenderinquisitiveness, though looking amused at me.
"I was thinking -" I answered, - "whether you are a great dealbetter than I am."
"Think it by all means," he said laughing. "I am certainly agood deal braver. But what else, Daisy? there was somethingelse."
"That," said I. "I was thinking of my habit, all my life long,of keeping things back from my father and mother till Ithought it was safe to show them."
"Are you going to let that habit live? What lessons you willhave to learn, my little Daisy! I could never bear to have mywife afraid of me."
"Of you!" I said. "I never should." - But there I stopped insome confusion, which I knew my neighbour enjoyed. I broke upthe enjoyment by standing up and declaring that it was nowtime to go.
We had a pretty ride home. My mind was disburthened of itsvarious subjects of care which I had had to communicate to Mr.Thorold; and although I had not been able entirely to prevailwith him, yet I had done all I could, and my conscience wasclear. I let myself enjoy, and the ride was good. Mr. Thoroldsaid we must have another; but I did not believe thatfeasible.
However, it fell out so. Dr. Sandford lingered on in the samedisabled state; his sister-in-law was devoted to herattendance on him; I was left to myself. And it did come topass, that not only Mr. Thorold and I had walks continuallytogether; but also we had one more good ride. I did not trymoving him again on the point of my father and mother. I hadread my man and knew that I could not. And I suppose I likedhim the better for it. Weakness is the last thing, I think,that a woman forgives in men, who ought to be strong.Christian was not weak; all the more he was gentle and tenderand thoughtful for those who were. Certainly for me. Thosedays, those walks, - what music of thought and manner therewas in them! The sort of protecting care and affection I hadfrom him then, I never had from any other at any time. Carethat seemed to, make my life his own; affection that made itsomething much before his own; but all this told, not inwords, which could not have been, but in indescribable littlethings of manner and tone; graces too fine to count andmeasure. Once I had fancied I ought to put more reserve intomy manner, or manage more distance in his; that thought fledfrom me after the first afternoon's ride and never came back.I did not take care for myself; he took care for me. Theaffection that held me as a part of himself, held me also as adelicate charge more precious than himself; and while heprotected me as one who had a right to do it, he guarded mealso as one whose own rights were more valuable than his. Henever flattered, nor praised, nor complimented me; or withrare exceptions; but he showed me that he lived for me, andsometimes that he knew I lived for him.
What days and walks! The extreme and impending gravity of thetime and the interests at work, lent only a keen and keenerperception of their preciousness and sweetness. Any day ouropportunities might suddenly come to an end; every day theywere welcomed as a special fresh gift. Every evening, as soonas Mr. Thorold's engagements allowed it, he met me on theavenue, and we walked until the evening was as far spent as wedurst spend it so. I basked in a sunshine of care andaffection which surrounded me, which watched me, which cateredto my pleasure, and knew my thoughts before they were spoken.We were both grown suddenly older than our years, Mr. Thoroldand I; the coming changes and chances in our lives brought usto life's reality at once.
One ride besides we had; that was all. Except one otherexperience; which was afterwards precious to me beyond price.
As it became known that Dr. Sandford's illness was persistentand not dangerous, and that I was in consequence leading a(supposed) bitterly dull life; it naturally happened that ouracquaintances began to come round us again; and invitations tothis or that entertainment came pouring upon me. I generallyrefused; but once thought it, best, as a blind to Mrs.Sandford, to accept an invitation to ride. Mrs. Sandford asbefore demurred, but would not object.
"Who is it this time, Daisy?" she asked.
I named Major Fairbairn; luckily also an officer whom I hadknown the last summer at West Point.
"Nothing but officers!" she remarked
in a dubious tone. "Notmuch else to be had here."
"And nothing much better anywhere," I said, "when, one isgoing on horseback. They know how to ride."
"All Southerners know that. By the way, Daisy, I have heardyesterday of Lieutenant Gary. He is in Beauregard's army."
"Are you sure?" I asked.
"Quite, I think. I was told by Mr. Lumpkin; and he knows allthe Southern doings, and people."
"Then he ought not to be here." I said. "He may let them knowour doings."
"_Ours!_" said Mrs. Sandford. "How fierce you are. Is MajorFairbairn South or North? I don't remember."
"From