measure drawn out of myself, almost immediately,by the illness of my mother. She fell into a nervousdisordered condition, which it taxed all my powers to tend andsoothe. I think it was mental rather than bodily, in theorigin of it; but body and mind shared in the result, asusual. And when she got better and was able to sit up and evento go about again, she remained under the utmost despondency.Affairs were not looking well for the Southern struggle inAmerica; and besides the mortification of her politicalaffections, mamma was very sure that if the South could notsucceed in establishing its independence, we should as afamily be ruined.
"We are ruined now, Daisy," she said. "There can be nothingcoming from our Magnolia estates - and our Virginia propertyis a mere battle ground, you know; and what have we to liveupon?"
"Mamma, there will be some way," I said. "I have not thoughtabout it."
"No, you do not think but of your own favourite speculations.I wish with all my heart you had never taken to fanaticalways. I have no comfort in you."
"What do you mean by fanaticism, mamma?"
"I will tell you!" replied mamma with energy. "The essence offanaticism is to have your own way."
"I do not think, mamma, that I want to have my own way."
"Of course, when you have it. That is what such people alwayssay. They don't want to have their own, way. I do not want tohave mine, either."
"Is not Dr. Sandford attending to our affairs for us, mamma?"
"I do not know. Your father trusted him, unaccountably. I donot know what he is doing."
"He will certainly do anything that can be done for us, mamma;I am persuaded of that. And he knows how."
"Is it for your sake, Daisy?" mamma said suddenly, and with aglitter in her eye which boded confusion to the doctor.
"I do not know, mamma," I said quietly. "He was always verygood and very kind to me."
"I suppose you are not quite a fool," she said, calming down alittle. "And a Yankee doctor would hardly lose his sensesenough to fall in love with you. Though I believe the Yankeesare the most impudent nation upon the earth. I wish Butlercould be hanged! I should like to know that was done before Idie."
I fled from this turn of the talk always.
It was true, however brought about I do not know, that Dr.Sandford had been for some time kindly bestirring himself tolook after our interests at home, which the distressed stateof the country had of course greatly imperilled. I was notaware that papa had been at any time seriously concerned aboutthem; however, it soon appeared that mamma had reason enoughnow for being ill at ease. In the South, war and warpreparations had so far superseded the usual employments ofmen, that next to nothing could be looked for in place of theordinary large crops and ample revenues. And Melbourne hadbeen let, indeed, for a good rent; but there was some troubleabout collecting the rent; and if collected, it belonged toRansom. Ransom was in the Southern army, fighting no doubt hisbest, and mamma would not have scrupled to use his money; butDr. Sandford scrupled to send it without authority. He urgedmamma to come home, where he said she could be better takencare of than alone in distant Switzerland. He proposed thatshe should reoccupy Melbourne, and let him farm the ground forher until Ransom should be able to look after it. Mamma andAunt Gary had many talks on the subject. I said as little as Icould.
"It is almost as bad with me," said my aunt Gary, one of thesetimes. "Only I do not want much."
"I _do_," said mamma. "And if one must live as one has not beenaccustomed to live, I would rather it should be where I amunknown."
"You are not unknown here, my dear sister!"
"Personally and socially. Not exactly. But I am historicallyunknown."
"Historically!" echoed my aunt.
"And living is cheaper here too."
"But one must have _some_ money, even here, Felicia."
"I have jewels," said mamma.
"Your jewels! - Daisy might have prevented all this," saidAunt Gary, looking at me.
"Daisy is one of those whose religion it is to pleasethemselves."
"But, my dear, you must be married some time," my aunt wenton, appealingly.
"I do not think that is certain, Aunt Gary."
"You are not waiting for Preston, are you? I hope not; for heis likely to be as poor as you are; if he gets through thebattles, poor boy!" And my aunt put her handkerchief to hereyes.
"I am not waiting for Preston," I said, "any more than he iswaiting for me."
"I don't know how that is," said my aunt. "Preston was verydependent on you, Daisy; but I don't know - since he has heardthese stories of you" -
"Daisy is nothing to Preston!" my mother broke in with somesharpness. "Tell him so, if he ever broaches the question toyou. Cut that matter short. I have other views for Daisy, whenshe returns to her duty. I believe in a religion of obedience- not in a religion of independent self-will. I wish Daisy hadbeen brought up in a convent. She would, if I had had my way.These popular religions throw over all law and order. I hatethem!"
"You see, Daisy my dear, how pleasant it would be, if youcould see things as your mother does," my aunt remarked.
"I am indifferent whether Daisy has my eyes or not," saidmamma; "what I desire is, that she should have my will."
The talks came to nothing, ended in nothing, did nothing. Myaunt Gary at the beginning of winter went back to America. Mymother did as she had proposed; sold some of her jewels, andso paid her way in Switzerland for some months longer. Butthis could not last. Dr. Sandford urged her return; she wishedalso to be nearer to Ransom; and in the spring we once moreembarked for home.
The winter had been exceedingly sad to me. No word fromAmerica ever reached my hands to give me any comfort; and Iwas alone with my sorrow. Mamma's state of mind, too, whichwas most uncomfortable for her, was extremely trying to me;because it consisted of regrets that I could not soothe,anxieties that I was unable to allay, and reproachful wishesthat I could neither meet nor promise to meet. Constantrepinings, ceaseless irritations, purposeless discussions;they wearied my heart, but I could bring no salve nor remedyunless I would have agreed to make a marriage for money. Imissed all that had brought so much sweetness into even myParis life, with my talks with papa, and readings, andsympathy, and mutual confidence. It was a weary winter, myonly real earthly friend being Mont Pilatte. Except Mr.Dinwiddie. I had written to him and got one or two good,strong, kind, helpful answers. Ah, what a good thing a goodletter is!
So it was great relief to quit Switzerland and find myself onthe deck of the steamer, with every revolution of the paddlewheels bringing me nearer home. Nearer what had been home; allwas vague and blank in the distance now. I was sure ofnothing. Only, "The Lord is my Shepherd," answers all that. Itcannot always stop the beating of human hearts, though; andmine beat hard sometimes, on that homeward voyage. Mamma wasvery dismal. I sat on deck as much as I could and watched thesea. It soothed me, with its living image of God's grandgovernment on earth; its ceaseless majestic flow, of which thesuccessive billows that raise their heads upon its surface arenot the interruption, but the continuation. So with our littleaffairs, so with mine. Not for nothing does any feeblest one'sfortunes rise or fall; but to work somewhat of good either tohimself or to others, and so to the whole. I was pretty quietduring the voyage, while I knew that no news could reach me; Iexpected to keep quiet; but I did not know myself.
We had hardly entered the bay of New York, and I had begun todiscern familiar objects and to realise that I was in the sameland with Mr. Thorold again, when a tormenting anxiety tookpossession of my heart. Now that I was near him, questionscould be put off no longer. What tidings would greet me? andhow should I get any tidings at all? A fever began to runalong my veins, which I felt was not to be cured by reasoning.Yes, I was not seeking to dispose my own affairs; I was nottrying to take them into my own hands; but I craved to knowhow they stood, and what it was to which I must submit myself.I was not willing to submit to uncertainty. Yet I remembered Imust do just that.
The vessel came to her moorings, and I sat in my mus
e, onlyconscious of that devouring impatience which possessed me; anddid not see Dr. Sandford till he was close by my side. Then Iwas glad; but the deck of that bustling steamer was no placeto show how glad. I stood still, with my hand in the doctor's,and felt my face growing cold.
"Sit down!" he said, putting me back in the chair from which Ihad risen; and still keeping my hand. "How is Mrs. Randolph?"
"I suppose you know how she is, from her letters."
"And you?" he said, with a change of tone.
"I do not know. I shall be better, I hope."
"You will be better, to get ashore. Will you learn yourmother's pleasure about it? and I will