"No," said my father. "That is my view of it, too."
"Nonsense!" said mamma - "there are a thousand ways of doing
the same thing, and you cannot stop them all. Your hair is as
fine as possible, too, Daisy, although it has not had me to
take care of it."
"But I did just as you told me with it, mamma," I said.
She kissed me again. "Did nobody ever tell you you were
beautiful?" she asked archly. "Yes, I know that you did just
as I told you. You always did, and always will. But did you
not know that you were beautiful?"
"Speak, Daisy," said papa. Said as it was with a smile, it
brought childish memories vividly back.
"Mamma," I said, "I have heard something of it - and I suppose
it may be true."
They laughed, and mamma remarked that I was human yet. "There
is a difference between the child and the woman, you will
find, Mr. Randolph."
Papa answered, that it was no very remarkable token of
humanity, to have eyes and ears.
"Daisy's eyes were always remarkable," said my mother.
"But, mamma," said I, "in other things there is no difference
between the child and the woman. My outside may have altered -
my mind is not changed at all; only grown."
"That will do," said mamma.
I was obliged to leave it to time, and hoped to make myself so
pleasant that what I could not change in me might be at least
tolerated, if it were not approved. It seemed an easy task! I
was such a manifest subject of joy, to father and mother, and
even Ransom too. A newly discovered land, full of gold, is not
more delightfully explored by its finders, than I was watched,
scrutinised, commented on, by my family.
That first day, of course, they could not let me out of their
sight. It was nothing but talk, all day long. In the evening
however our last evening's guests reappeared. The conversation
this time did not get upon American politics, so everybody
showed to better advantage; I suppose, myself included. We had
music; and the gentlemen were greatly delighted with my voice
and my singing. Mamma and papa took it very coolly until we
were left alone again; then my mother came up and kissed me.
"You have done your duty, Daisy, in improving your voice," she
said. "You are a Daisy I am perfectly satisfied with. If you
can sing as well in public as you have done to-night in
private, papa will be proud of you."
"In public, mamma?" I said.
"Yes. That does not frighten you. Nothing does frighten you."
"No, mamma, but - what do you mean by 'in public'?"
"Not on the stage," said mamma.
"But mamma, - papa," - I said, anxiously, "this is what I want
you to understand. I will do anything in the world you wish me
to do; only, I am - I must be, - you know, - a servant of
Christ."