Let her energies work. The very best thing
for her is that they should find something to work upon, and
receive no interruption."
"What interrupted her this afternoon."
"Conscience — as I understand it."
"There is no dealing with Daisy's conscience, doctor," said
Mr. Randolph, with a smile. "What _that_ says, Daisy feels
herself bound to do."
"Do not burden her conscience then," said the doctor. "Not
just now — till she gets stronger."
"Where was she going this afternoon?" Mrs. Randolph asked in
her calm voice.
"On an errand of the most Utopian benevolence —"
"Having what for its object?"
"A miserable old crippled creature, who lives in a poor
cottage about half a mile from your gate."
"What was Daisy desiring to do, doctor?"
"Carry some comfort to this forlorn thing, I believe; whom
nobody else thinks of comforting."
"Do you know what shape the comfort was to take?"
"I think," said the doctor, — "I am not quite sure, but I
think, it was a rose-bush."
Mr. Randolph looked at his wife and straightened himself up to
a sitting posture.
"And what hindered her, Dr. Sandford?"
"I think, some understanding that she had not liberty to go
on."
"Very proper in Daisy," said Mrs.
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