"Everything has a beginning, a middle, and an end," said the
doctor. "What was the beginning of this?"
"Only, Dr. Sandford," said Daisy, doubtfully, — "I was sorry
for that poor woman, after what you told me about her."
"Molly Skelton?"
"Yes, sir."
"And you thought to comfort her with rose-bushes?"
"No sir, — but — I wanted to get on good terms with her."
"Are you on any other terms?"
"She does not know me, you know, sir," said Daisy, lifting to
her friend a face that was beyond his comprehension, — "and I
do not think she was very well pleased to see me in her garden
a little while ago."
"You have been in her garden, then?"
"Yes, sir."
"Daisy, will you excuse me for asking, why you should be on
any terms whatever with Molly Skelton?"
"She is so unhappy, Dr. Sandford," — Daisy said, looking up
again.
"And do you think you can do anything to make her less
unhappy?"
"I thought" — Daisy did not look up now, but the doctor
watching her saw a witnessing tinge that he knew coming about
her eyelids, and a softened line of lip, that made him listen
the closer, — "I thought — I might teach her something that
would make her happy, — if I could."
"What would you teach her, Daisy?"
"I would teach her to read — perhaps — I thought; if she would
like me and let me.
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