For a while
Daisy pondered the means of getting her treasure back; by a
word to her father, or a representation to Preston, or by
boldly demanding the spoon of Mrs. Gary herself. Daisy felt as
if she must have it back somehow. But any of these ways, even
if successful, would make trouble; a great deal of trouble;
and it would be, Daisy had an inward consciousness all the
time, unworthy of a Christian child. But she felt angry with
Mrs. Gary, and as if she could never forgive her. Daisy,
though not passionate, was persistent in her character; her
gentleness covered a not exactly yielding disposition.
In the midst of all this, Dr. Sandford came in, fresh from his
morning's drive, and sat down by the bedside.
"Do you want to go downstairs, Daisy?"
"No, sir; I think not."
"Not? What's the matter? Are you of a misanthropical turn of
mind?"
"I do not know, Dr. Sandford; I do not know what that is."
"Well, now you have got back to human society and fellowship,
don't you want to enjoy it?"
"I should not enjoy it to-day."
"If I do not see you downstairs, you will have to stay up till
another day."
"Yes, sir."
"What is the matter, Daisy?" And now the doctor bent over and
looked hard in her face.
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