"
"Daisy, are you serious?"
"Why, yes, Preston."
"My dear little Daisy, do _not_ you go and be a philosopher!"
"Why, I can't; but why shouldn't I?"
"Philosophers are not 'nice,' Daisy, when they are ladies,"
said Preston, shaking his head.
"Why not?"
"Because ladies are not meant to be philosophers."
"But I want to know about trilobites," said Daisy.
"I don't think you do. You would not find the study of fossils
interesting."
"I think I should — if you would help me, Preston."
"Well, we will see, Daisy. I will do anything for you, if you
will do one thing for me. Oh, Daisy, do! Aunt Felicia has not
given it up at all."
"Good-bye, Preston," said Daisy. "Now you must go, and not
talk to me any more this time."
Preston ran off.
He was not allowed to come again for a day or two; and Daisy
was not allowed to talk. She was kept very quiet, until it was
found that the broken bone was actually healing, and in a fair
way to get well. The pains in it were no longer so trying; the
very hot days had given place to a time of milder weather; and
Daisy, under the care of the old black woman, enjoyed her
solitary imprisonment well enough. Twice a day always her
father visited her; once a day, Mrs.
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