"Christian," I said, "I was very unwilling that Dr. Sandford should know anything about it; that was my reason. If I had written to you, you know you would have come straight to where I was; and the risk was too great."

"What risk?" he said. "I might have been ordered away from Washington; and then we might never have met."

"Are you vexed?" I said gently.

"You have wronged me, Daisy."

It gave me, I do not know whether more pain or pleasure, the serious grave displeasure his manner testified. Neither pain nor pleasure was very easy to express; but pain pressed the hardest.

"I have been looking for the chance of seeing you; looking the whole time," I said. "Everywhere, it was the one thing I was intent upon."

"Daisy, it might have been lost altogether. And how many days have been lost!"

I was silent now; and we walked some steps together without anything more. But the next words were with a return to his usual clear voice.

"Daisy, you must not be afraid of anything."

"How can I help it?" I asked.

"Help it? - but have _I_ brought those tears into your eyes?"

It was almost worth while to have offended him, to hear the tone of those words. I could not speak.

"I see you are not very angry with me," he said; "but I am with myself. Daisy, my Daisy, you must not be so fearful of unknown dangers."

"I think I have been fearful of them all my life," I answered.

"Perhaps it is my fault."

And with unspeakable joy I recognised the truth, that at last my life was anch.o.r.ed to one from whom I need neither fear nor disguise anything.

"To fear them is often to bring them." he added.

"I do not think it will, in my case," I said. "But, if Dr.

Sandford had known you were coming to see me, he might have carried me off from Washington, just as he did from West Point last year."

"From West Point?" said Mr. Thorold, his eyes making a brilliant commentary on my words; - "Did he carry you away from West Point for any such reason? Is he afraid of me?"

"He would be afraid of anybody," I said in some confusion, for Mr. Thorold's eyes were dancing with mischief and pleasure; - "I do not know - of course I do not know what he was afraid of; but I know how it _would_ be."

Mr. Thorold's answer was to take my hand and softly draw it through his own arm. I did not like it; I was fearful of being seen to walk so; yet the a.s.suming of me was done in a manner that I could not resist nor contravene. I knew how Christian's eyes fell upon me; I dared not meet them.

"Is the doctor jealous of you, Daisy?" he whispered laughing.

I did not find an answer immediately.

"Does he _dare?_" Mr. Thorold said in a different tone.

"No, no. Christian, how imperious you are!"

"Yes," he said; "I will be so where you are concerned. What do you mean, Daisy? or what does he mean?"

"He is my guardian, you know," I said; "and he has sharp eyes; and he is careful of me."

"_Very_ careful?" said Mr. Thorold, laughing and pressing my arm. "Daisy, _I_ am your guardian while you are in Washington. I wish I had a right to say that you shall have nothing more to do with Dr. Sandford. But for the present I must mind my duty."

"And I mine," - I added, with my heart beating. Now it seemed a good opening for some of the things I had to say; yet my heart beat and I was silent.

"Yours, Daisy?" he said very tenderly. "What is yours? What present pressure of conscience is giving you something hard to do? I know it will be done! What work is this little soldier on?"

I could not tell him. I could not. My answer diverged.

"What are _you_ on, Christian?"

"The same thing. Rather preparing for work - preparing others.

I am at that all day."

"And do you expect there will be real work, as you call it?

Will it come to that?"

"Looks like it. What do you think of Fairfax Court-house? - and Great Bethel? - and Falling Waters, and so on?"

"That was bad, at Great Bethel," I said.

"Mismanagement -" said Mr. Thorold calmly.

"And at Vienna."

"No, the troops behaved well. They behaved well, Daisy. I am content with that."

"Do you think - don't be angry, Christian! - do you think the people of the North generally will make as fiery fighting men as the people of the South, who are used to fighting, and commanding, and the practice of arms?"

"When you get a quiet man angry, Daisy, he is the very worst man to deal with that you ever saw."

"But the people of the North are all accustomed to peaceful employments?"

Mr. Thorold laughed, looking down at me with infinite amus.e.m.e.nt and tenderness mixed.

"I see what your training has been," he said. "What will you do when you have one of those quiet people for your husband?"

"Quiet!" said I. "When your eyes are showering sparks of fire all over me!"

"Daisy," he said, "those rose leaves in your cheeks are the very prettiest bits of colour I ever saw in my life."

"But we are wandering from the subject," I said.

"No, we are not," he said decidedly. "You are my one subject at all times."

"Not when you are training soldiers?" I said half laughing.

But he gave me a look which silenced me. And it nearly took away all the courage I had, for everything I wanted to say to him and had found it so difficult to say.