What
did she mean by talking about being happy?
"Daisy, I have brought you some oranges."
"Thank you, papa! — May I have one now?"
Silently, and almost sternly, Mr. Randolph stood and pared the
orange with a fruit knife — he had thought to bring that too —
and fed Daisy with it, bit by bit. It was pleasant and novel
to Daisy to have her father serve her so; generally others had
done it when there had been occasion. Mr. Randolph did it
nicely, while his thoughts worked.
"What are you going to do to-night, papa?" she said, when the
orange was finished and he stood looking at her.
"Stay here with you."
"But, papa, how can you sleep?"
"I can do without sleeping, if it is necessary. I will take a
chair here in the doorway, and be near if you want anything."
"Oh, I shall not want anything, papa, except what Juanita can
give me."
He stood still, watching her. Daisy looked up at him with a
loving face; a wise little face it always was; it was gravely
considerate now.
"Papa, I am afraid you will be uncomfortable."
"Can nobody bear that but you?" said Mr. Randolph, stooping
down to kiss her.
"I am very happy, papa," said the child, placidly; while a
slight tension of her forehead witnessed to the shooting pains
with which the whole wounded limb seemed to be filled.
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