Christian fiction; Conduct of life -- Fiction; Fathers and daughters -- Fiction; Misers -- Fiction
"I want to try. Please—oh, please, do, quickly."
Mary relaxed partially her firm hold, intending to do no more, but at
the same instant Daisy with a quick movement pushed both her hands
away. It was the work of a moment. Before Mary could grasp her again,
Daisy had sunk in a heap on the ground.
"O Nursie, I can't, I can't," she said despairingly. "Oh, what shall I
do?"
Mary uttered no reproaches. She lifted Daisy up from the floor, not
without difficulty, laid her in the bed, and drew the clothes over her.
Daisy hid her face in the pillow, with a burst of heart-broken sobbing.
"I did think I should be able," she moaned. "I didn't think it would be
so bad. Nursie, I don't believe I shall ever be able to walk again. And
what will father say?"
"There's no use looking forward for troubles that mayn't ever come,"
said Mary quietly. "If the trouble is sent by God, Mr. Meads'll have to
bear it, and so will you, Miss Daisy. But you don't know yet as it will
come. Nobody can tell yet. It's as like as not you'll be walking all
right in a few weeks or months."
"Does Mr. Bennet say so?" asked poor Daisy, weeping still.
"He says it's a good sign that you're able to bear sitting up a bit. He
says he don't know how long it'll be, but he hopes you'll get on better
by-and-by."
Daisy fell into a fresh fit of sobs. "Oh, I did think I should be able
to stand just for a moment," she said. "I did think I could. And it
seemed as if I hadn't the least feeling in my legs."
"And you are so weak too," said Mary. "That makes the matter worse."
"Father will be so disappointed. I shouldn't mind if it wasn't for him.
I can't think what he will say!" moaned Daisy, quite overcome by her
bitter disappointment.
It came suddenly into Mary's head that this would be no bad time for
Isaac to see Daisy again. She acted on the moment's impulse, not quite
wisely, perhaps, since she could not tell at all how the old man would
behave, and Daisy was already upset. Leaving the bedroom, she went
quickly across to the parlour, and there accosted Isaac with the words,—
"Do you want to see Daisy, Mr. Meads?"
"I'd have seen her long ago, if it hadn't been for you," grumbled Isaac.
"I'll take you in now, if you promise me not to stay a moment longer
than I give you leave."
Isaac Meads grunted a response.
"You mustn't be there many minutes, for Daisy is weak, but she wants to
have a sight of you again."
"She isn't going to die?" asked Isaac, with some show of interest.
"No," said Mary sharply. "Much you'd care if she did. Come."
Mary was vexed with herself the next moment for her sharp way of
speaking. After all, the old man could scarcely be counted to have his
full wits. She led the way, and Isaac shuffled after.
CHAPTER XIII.
GONE!
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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