"No, he didn't," said Susy.
"Yes, he did, 'pon my word he did; least I said I would do it, and he didn't say I couldn't: did you, sir?" said Lily, throwing back her head to look up at the General's tall figure.
"And that comes to the same thing, does it, Lily?" he said, laughing; "well, I suppose it does; and I promise you shall look after Daisy till she feels no longer a stranger among you."
"She knows me, and Loly and Violet, as well as any thing," said Lily; for the little girls had met several times before, and Lily felt herself and the two Swans to be on rather intimate terms with Daisy Forster.
"All right, then. I leave her to you. Good-morning, Miss Collins," and with a bow to the lady, with whom he had before made all the necessary arrangements for Daisy, a pleasant nod for the little ones, and a kiss for Daisy, he went away.
Daisy felt rather lonely when he was gone, in spite of Miss Collins' kind look, Lily's tight clasp of the hand, and Violet's, "We have real nice times in school. Don't be afraid." For she was far more shy with children than she was with grown people, probably because she had never had any companions of her own age; and the number of young faces, most of them strange, about her, made her long to be back again at Mrs. Forster's side. And they all looked at her a good deal, for her story was well known among them, and she was an object of great curiosity.
Lily observed this, as she took her seat with Daisy beside her, and thought she must speak up for her charge.
"Miss Collins," she said, "please to make a rule."
"Well," said Miss Collins, smiling; for Lily was constantly asking for new rules concerning things which did not suit her. She had begun with this more than a year ago when she was only a visitor at the school; and she was even now not a regular scholar, but only coming for a few weeks. For her papa and mamma had gone on a journey, and Lily, being lonely at home when Ella and the boys were at school, it had been arranged that she was to go with Ella in the morning. So she was rather a privileged person, and spoke her mind freely concerning that which did not please her, which the other children thought rather a joke, and were generally ready enough to fall in with Lily's rules. So now they all listened.
"Please to make a rule that nobody must stare, ma'am," said Lily: "it makes people feel so to be stared at," – and Lily put up both hands to her cheeks, – "specially if they are new."
"Very true," answered Miss Collins: "let us all try to remember the Golden Rule, and then we shall neither stare nor do any thing else to hurt another's feelings."
Then she struck the little bell which stood upon her table, and all knew the school had begun, and they must be quiet.
Next calling Bessie Norton to her, Miss Collins gave her a number of Bibles, and the little girl handed one to each of her classmates. Then Miss Collins read a verse aloud, and the children followed, each in her turn.
"Minnie Grey may take the Bibles," said Miss Collins when this was done.
Minnie rose, and went from one to another collecting the Bibles. But instead of taking as many as she could conveniently carry at one time, giving them to Miss Collins, and coming back for the rest, she went on piling one on top of another, till one arm was quite full, when she came to Daisy and held out her other hand for her book. As she did so, the top one of the pile fell to the floor. Minnie stooped for it, and down went two or three more.
"Oh! bother the old things," said Minnie, in a low voice, but very impatiently.
Daisy had stooped to help her pick up the Bibles, but the glow her cheeks wore when she raised her head again was not all owing to that.
Bother the old things! What old things? Why, the Bibles, God's own Holy Word.
Daisy was very much shocked, and she looked up at Miss Collins, expecting to hear her reprove such wicked words, she thought them.
But Miss Collins had not heard Minnie's exclamation, though the noise of the falling books had called her attention that way, and she said, —
"Minnie, my dear, you are careless with those Bibles: do you forget whose books they are?"
"I don't care," muttered Minnie, but not so that the lady could hear. Daisy heard again; and the thought passed through her mind, "What a wicked little girl Minnie must be!"
And yet Daisy was mistaken. If she had asked Minnie's parents, teacher, or playmates, they would all have told her that Minnie was an uncommonly good and pleasant little girl; truthful, obedient, industrious, and generous and obliging towards others. She had no thought now that she was breaking one of God's commandments; and she would have been both offended and grieved, if she had known what was in Daisy's mind, believing herself, as she did, to be innocent of any wrong.
V.
DAISY AT STUDY
DAISY was soon at home with her schoolmates, and a great favorite among them.
It was not strange that they liked and were interested in her. She was such a gentle, modest, amiable little girl; watching and joining in the games and lessons of the others with a kind of innocent wonder which amused and touched them all. For Daisy was not at all accustomed to be with children of her own age, and their ways were all new to her.
And of course she was behind all the rest in her studies. She could not even read as well as Lily Ward; and had to begin with the simplest lessons, such as Lily and two or three of the very youngest children learned. At first this troubled her, and she feared the rest of the class would laugh at her.
But she soon found she need not have been afraid of that, for the rule of Miss Collins' infant class was the law of kindness; and any one of the little girls would have thought it almost a crime to laugh or mock at Daisy, for that which was her misfortune and not her fault.
They might now and then fall out a little among themselves, for they were by no means perfect children; sometimes there would be some selfishness shown, or even a few angry words pass from one to another; but, on the whole, they agreed about as well as any twenty little girls could be expected to do; and not one among them would have had the heart purposely to do an unkind thing to another. Least of all to Daisy Forster, whom they all looked upon with a kind of tender pity and interest, because of her sad and romantic history; and who was at once taken up by both teacher and scholars as a sort of twin pet with Lily, for whom allowances were to be made, and who was to be encouraged and aided as much as possible.
So Daisy found plenty of helpers, who, so far from laughing at her mistakes and backwardness, were rather inclined to think her quick and industrious, as indeed she was, trying hard to make up for lost time, and "catch up" with those of her own age.
She was almost too eager about this, and had to be checked now and then, for since the long illness which had followed the shipwreck, Daisy had never been strong; and too much fatigue or study, or even too much play, would make her nervous and sick, and her little head would become confused and ache. So now and then Mrs. Forster would have to take the books from her, and forbid more study, sending her out to play, or to work in the plot of ground which had been given her for a garden of her own.
She was not always pleased at this, and sometimes would be rather fretful and impatient. But Mrs. Forster soon found a way to put a stop to this.
One afternoon she found the little girl bending over her slate with flushed and heated cheeks, anxious eyes, and trembling hands.
"Daisy," she said, quietly, "what are you doing? Miss Collins has not given you lessons out of school, has she?"
"No, ma'am," said Daisy; "but I asked Ella Ward to set me a whole lot of sums so that I could do them at home, and I can't make this one come right. I know it is not right, 'cause Ella put the answers on the other side of the slate, and mine won't come the same, all I can do."
Mrs. Forster took the slate from her hand.
"This sum is too hard for you, Daisy," she said: "you do not know enough arithmetic for this."
"It is not any harder than the sums Lola and Violet and the other girls as large as I am do," answered Daisy, looking ready to burst out crying; "and I have to do arithmetic with the very little ones, like Lily, and it makes me ashamed; so I want to go on all I can. Please give me the slate again, Aunt Gertrude," she added, as Mrs. Forster laid it beyond her reach.
"No, dear. I do not wish you to study out of school. I am glad you want to improve, but you have as much to do there as is good for you; and at home I want you to have rest and play. You are improving quite as fast as could be expected, and for a time you must be content to go on with those who are younger than yourself."
"But it makes me ashamed," pleaded Daisy, again.
"There is no reason for that," said Mrs. Forster, patting the hot cheek she raised towards her. "The other children do not laugh at you and make you uncomfortable, do they?"
"Oh, no, ma'am," said Daisy; "they are all so good to me, and when they can't help seeing what a dunce I am" (here Daisy's tears overflowed), "they always say kind things about how I never went to school before, and how my own dear mamma was drowned, and there was nobody to teach me till I came to you."
"You are not a dunce, dear," said the lady. "A child who idles away her time when she should be studying, and does not care whether or no she learns as much as is fit for her, is a dunce: not a little girl who really wishes to be industrious, but does not know quite as much as others of her own age only because God has not given her the same advantages in time past. No one will think my Daisy a dunce. Now, we must have no more studying at home, no more lessons than those Miss Collins sets you."
Daisy did not look satisfied: on the contrary, she even pouted a little.
"Daisy," said Mrs. Forster, "suppose Uncle Frank were to give you some beautiful and costly thing which would be of great use to you in time to come if you took good care of it, say a watch: what would you do with it?"
"Why! I would take great care, oh! such care of it," said Daisy, opening her eyes in some surprise at the question. She did not see what that could have to do with her studies.
"I'd wind it up every night, and try to keep it right and safe every way I could. But I don't know if I am quite large enough to have a watch of my own, or take care of it; maybe the best way would be to ask you or Uncle Frank to keep it for me till I was older."
"And suppose for a while he gave you no key to this watch, but let it run down and be quiet?"
"I'd just put it away till he gave me a key, and be patient about it," said Daisy, wondering more and more.