to see the lake of Annecy, MissRandolph, if we can secure your company and approbation. Itwill just take the day; and I propose that each one of usshall go prepared to instruct the others, at luncheon, as tohis or her views of the worthiest thing a man can do with hislife; - cigars being banished."
"Cigars are not banished yet," said Ransom, taking delicatewhiffs of his own, which sent a fragrant wreath of blue smokecurling about his face.
"What do you say, Miss Randolph?" Hugh asked.
"Wouldn't you like to see the house of Eugene Sue?" said DeSaussure.
"Who was Eugene Sue?" was my counter question; and theylaughed again, our two friends with sparkling eyes.
"Look here, Daisy!" said Ransom, suddenly bringing down hischair on four feet and sitting upright, - "I wish you wouldput an end to this indulgence of sight-seeing and yoursociety, and send these gentlemen home with me. I must go, andthey ought to go too and do their duty. A word from you wouldsend either of them straight to Beauregard's headquarters.Talk of indulgences!"
"I do not wish to send either of them there," was myincautious answer.
"Do you think it is always wrong to fight?" De Saussure asked.
I said no, with an internal shiver running through me fromhead to foot. They went into a mutual gratulation on thecauses for fighting that existed on the part of the SouthernStates, and the certainty that the warlike spirit of the Northwould "die off like a big fungus," as one of them phrased it.I could not discuss the point with them, and I got away assoon as it could gracefully be done.
But something in this little talk, or in what went before it,had unsettled me; and I slept little that night. Anxietieswhich had lain pretty still, and pain which had been ratherquiet, rose up together and shook me. My Bible reading hadgiven me a word which for a time helped the confusion. "No manthat warreth entangleth himself with the affairs of this life,that he may please Him who hath chosen him to be a soldier."
Not to be entangled with the affairs of this life! - and myheart and soul were in a whirl of them; I might say, in asnarl. And true the words were. How could I please Him who hadchosen me to be a soldier, with my heart set on my ownpleasure, and busy with my own fears? I knew I could not. Thequiet subjection of spirit with which I left Washington, I hadin a measure lost at Lucerne. Somehow, opposition had rousedme; and the great distance and the impossibility of hearinghad made my imagination restless; and the near probabilitythat mamma would not favour our wishes had caused me to take asort of life and death grasp of them. The management ofmyself, that I had resigned, I found I had not resigned it;but my heart was stretching out yearning hands to Thorold andcrying for a sight of him. Meanwhile, the particular work thatI had to do in Switzerland had been little thought of. Whatwas it?
I spent that night waking. My room looked not to the lake, butover an extent of greensward and orchards, lit up now by abright moon. I knelt at my window, with a strong recollectionof former times, and a vain look back at my little old self,the childish Daisy, whose window at Melbourne, over thehoneysuckles, had been so well used and had entertained such aquiet little heart. Then there had been Miss Pinshon's Daisy;but all the Daisies that I could remember had been quietcompared to this one. Must joy take such close hold on sorrow?Must hopes always be twin with such fears? - I asked amidbitter tears. But tears do one good; and after a littleindulgence of them, I brought myself up to look at my duty.What was it?
I might love, and fear, and hope; but I must not be"entangled." Not so concerned about myself, either for sorrowor joy, that I should fail in anything to discern the Lord'swill, or be unready, or be slow, to do it. Not so but that myheart should be free, looking to God for its chief strengthand joy always and everywhere, - yes, and holding my hopes athis hand, to be given up if he called them back. With Thoroldparted from me, in the thick of the war struggle, almostcertain to be rejected by both my father and my mother, couldI have and keep such a disentangled heart? The command saidyes, and I knew there were promises that said yes too; but fora time I was strangely unwilling. I had a sort ofsuperstitious feeling, that the giving up of my will aboutthese things, and of my will's hold of them, would be apreliminary to their being taken away from me in good earnest.And I trembled and wept and shrank, like the coward I was.
"And if a man also strive for masteries, yet is he notcrowned, except he strive lawfully."
"God's way is the way," I said to myself, - "and there is noother. I know, in what I said to mamma that afternoon aboutdressing and going into the world, it was not all principle.There was a mixture of selfish disinclination to go intosociety, because of Mr. Thorold and my feeling about him. Mythoughts and will are all in a tangle; and they must bedisentangled."
The struggle was long and sore that night. Worse than inWashington; because here I was alone among those who did notfavour Mr. Thorold, and were opposed in everything to his andmy views and wishes. Temptation said, that it was forsakingtheir cause, to give up my will about them. But there is notemptation that takes us and God has not provided a way ofescape. The struggle was sharp; but when the dawn broke overthe orchards and replaced the glory of the moonlight, my heartwas quiet again. I was bent, before all things, upon doing thewill of God; and had given up myself and all my hopes entirelyto His disposal. They were not less dear hopes for that,though now the rest of my heart was on something better; onsomething which by no change or contingency can disappoint orfail. I was disentangled. I stood free. And I was happier thanI had been in many a long day. "The peace of God." If peoplecould only possibly know what that means!
CHAPTER XII.
AN ENGAGEMENT
The expedition to Annecy had been determined on, and papa andmamma were to go. I went in a carriage with them, while theothers were on horseback; so I had a nice quiet time, whichsuited me; a time of curious secret enjoyment. It seemed as ifa gratulation came to me from every blade of grass and everyray of sunlight; because I was a servant of God, and as whollygiven up to do His will as they were. There was communionbetween them and me. Of those "ministers of His, that do Hispleasure," I would be one; to do what He had for me to do inthe world, should be my care and joy at once; and the care ofmyself - I left it to Him. One goes light when one does notcarry that burden.
"Daisy, you are dreadfully sober," said mamma.
"Not _dreadfully_, mamma, I hope," I said with a smile.
"You are pale too," she went on. "Mr. Randolph, Daisy thinkstoo much."
"It is an old weakness of hers," said papa. "I am afraid it isbeyond our reach, Felicia."
"I will break it up for to-day," said mamma as the carriagestopped and Mr. De Saussure came to the steps. "Charles, Daisyhas got into a brown study. I give her to you in charge, notto allow anything of the sort again till we get home. Andorder luncheon at once, will you. I can't go walking or sight-seeing without that."
Mr. de Saussure gave me his arm and took me with him, as hesaid, to help about the luncheon. It was soon spread out ofdoors, beneath the shade of some large trees, and we gatheredround it in holiday mood. Bread was sweet, with that page ofbeauty spread out before my eyes all the time; - for betweenthe boles of the trees and under their hanging branches Icould see the glittering waters of the lake and a bit of itsdistant shore. I did not go into a brown study, however, notwishing to give occasion to Mr. De Saussure's good offices. Ithought he had quite enough enjoyed his charge during thebusiness before luncheon. To my disappointment, after the mealpapa declared himself tired and went to lie down.
"We have forgotten our agreement," said Mr. De Saussure. "Atluncheon, we were all to tell, Mrs. Randolph, what we thinkthe worthiest thing to live for."
"Were we?" said mamma. "That sounds like one of Daisy'sproblems."
"It is not hers, however," he rejoined; "any further than thatI am mainly curious to know what she will say about it."
"You ought to be equally anxious about my opinion, it seems tome," mamma said.
"Do I not know it already? Pour la patrie, - does anything gobefore that in your mind? Honestly,
Mrs. Randolph, - is it notin your opinion the worthiest thing anybody can do, to fight,or to die - still better, - for the independence of theSouth?"
"You do not think so," said mamma, "or you would be there."
"I am selfish, and have selfish hopes and fears. But you thinkso?"
"Let us hear what you consider the worthiest object of life,"said mamma.
"It is not my turn. Miss Randolph, your mother has spoken -the next honour belongs to you."
"The worthiest object of life?" I said. "Is that thequestion?"
"It will not be a question, when you have answered it," DeSaussure said gallantly.
"You will not like my answer," I