Daisy in the Field Part 30

CHAPTER XII.

AN ENGAGEMENT

The expedition to Annecy had been determined on, and papa and mamma were to go. I went in a carriage with them, while the others were on horseback; so I had a nice quiet time, which suited me; a time of curious secret enjoyment. It seemed as if a gratulation came to me from every blade of gra.s.s and every ray of sunlight; because I was a servant of G.o.d, and as wholly given up to do His will as they were. There was communion between them and me. Of those "ministers of His, that do His pleasure," I would be one; to do what He had for me to do in the world, should be my care and joy at once; and the care of myself - I left it to Him. One goes light when one does not carry that burden.

"Daisy, you are dreadfully sober," said mamma.

"Not _dreadfully_, mamma, I hope," I said with a smile.

"You are pale too," she went on. "Mr. Randolph, Daisy thinks too much."

"It is an old weakness of hers," said papa. "I am afraid it is beyond our reach, Felicia."

"I will break it up for to-day," said mamma as the carriage stopped and Mr. De Saussure came to the steps. "Charles, Daisy has got into a brown study. I give her to you in charge, not to allow anything of the sort again till we get home. And order luncheon at once, will you. I can't go walking or sight- seeing without that."

Mr. de Saussure gave me his arm and took me with him, as he said, to help about the luncheon. It was soon spread out of doors, beneath the shade of some large trees, and we gathered round it in holiday mood. Bread was sweet, with that page of beauty spread out before my eyes all the time; - for between the boles of the trees and under their hanging branches I could see the glittering waters of the lake and a bit of its distant sh.o.r.e. I did not go into a brown study, however, not wis.h.i.+ng to give occasion to Mr. De Saussure's good offices. I thought he had quite enough enjoyed his charge during the business before luncheon. To my disappointment, after the meal papa declared himself tired and went to lie down.

"We have forgotten our agreement," said Mr. De Saussure. "At luncheon, we were all to tell, Mrs. Randolph, what we think the worthiest thing to live for."

"Were we?" said mamma. "That sounds like one of Daisy's problems."

"It is not hers, however," he rejoined; "any further than that I am mainly curious to know what she will say about it."

"You ought to be equally anxious about my opinion, it seems to me," mamma said.

"Do I not know it already? Pour la patrie, - does anything go before that in your mind? Honestly, Mrs. Randolph, - is it not in your opinion the worthiest thing anybody can do, to fight, or to die - still better, - for the independence of the South?"

"You do not think so," said mamma, "or you would be there."

"I am selfish, and have selfish hopes and fears. But you think so?"

"Let us hear what you consider the worthiest object of life,"

said mamma.

"It is not my turn. Miss Randolph, your mother has spoken - the next honour belongs to you."

"The worthiest object of life?" I said. "Is that the question?"

"It will not be a question, when you have answered it," De Saussure said gallantly.

"You will not like my answer," I said. "I should think it would be, To please G.o.d."

"But that is not an answer, pardon me. Of course, the Supreme Being is pleased to see people following the worthiest object; and the question is, What is the _worthiest?_"

I did not like to hear Mr. De Saussure's tongue touch themes where it was not at home. The conversation was too serious for light handling; but I could not get out of it.

"You will find that my answer includes all," I said. "It is impossible to lay down a rule, as to particulars, that will fit all cases. It is the best thing one man can do, to lay down his life for his country; the best thing another man can do is to stay at home and devote himself to the care of an infirm mother or father; but in either case, for G.o.d."

"I do not understand -" said Mr. Marshall.

"Suppose the one goes to the battlefield for his own glory, and the other stays at home for his own ease?"

"Don't you think glory is a thing to live for?" said Ransom, with an indignant expression that reminded me painfully of our childish days.

"Yes," I said slowly, - "I do; but not the praise of men, which is so often mistaken. The glory that comes from G.o.d, - _that_ is worth living for."

"What an incomprehensible girl you are!" Ransom answered impatiently.

"She'll mend -" said mamma.

"But, Miss Randolph," said Mr. Marshall, "the care of infirm relatives, a father or a mother, can anything make that unworthy?"

"Not in itself," I said; "but suppose a man's duty calls him away? It might. You can suppose such a case."

"I see what I have to expect," mamma said with a laugh. "Daisy will take care of me, until some duty calls her away. I will not count upon you, Daisy, any longer than that. De Saussure, what is _your_ estimate of life's objects? On honour, now!"

"I can think of nothing better than to live for somebody that one loves," he said.

"I knew you would say that," she rejoined. "Hugh, what do you say?"

"I need to go to school, Mrs. Randolph."

"Well, go to school to Daisy," said mamma with another light laugh. "And come, let us walk, or we shall not have time.

Eug?ne Sue, is it, that we are going to see?"

"Only his house, madam. Miss Randolph, I am charged, you know, with your studies to-day."

I was not in the mood of accepting Mr. De Saussure's arm, but just then it was the only thing to do. My mother and Ransom and Hugh Marshall were presently some little distance behind, an interval separating us; and Mr. De Saussure and I followed the sh.o.r.es of the lake, taking such counsel together as our somewhat diverse moods made possible. I was thinking, what a life of hard work the two prophets Elijah must have known in their time; he who was first of the name, and his greater successor, John the Baptist. Each of them worked alone, against a universal tide of adverse evil that flooded the land. If I found it so sorrowful to be alone in my family and society, what must they have felt with the whole world against them. And Elijah's spirit did once give out, brave as he was: "It is enough, O Lord; take away my life." I thought I could understand it. To be all alone; to have no sympathy in what is dearest to you; to face opposition and scorn and ridicule and contumely while trying to do people good and bring them to good; to have only G.o.d on your side, with the bitter consciousness that those whom you love best are arrayed against him; your family and country; - I suppose n.o.body can tell how hard that is to endure, but he who has tasted it. My taste of it was light indeed; but a half hour with Miss Cardigan would have been inexpressibly good to me that day. So I thought, as I walked along the bank of the lake with Mr. De Saussure; and then I remembered "my hiding-place and my s.h.i.+eld."

"You are very silent to-day, Miss Randolph," said my companion at length. I may remark, in pa.s.sing, that _he_ had not been.

"It is enough to look, and to think," I answered, "with such a sight before one's eyes."

"Do you know," said he, "such independence of all the exterior world, - of mortals, I mean, - is very tantalising to those disregarded mortals?"

"Do you find it so? It is fair then to presume, in a place like this, that what takes up my attention has not so much charm for you."

"That is severe!" he said. "Do you think I do not see all this beauty before us? But pardon me, - have _you_ seen it?"

"I have tasted it every step of the way, Mr. De Saussure."

"I am rebuked," he said. "You must excuse me - I had counted upon the pleasure of seeing you enjoy it."

"One's enjoyment is not always heightened by giving it expression," I said.

"No, I know that is your theory - or practice," he said. "My sisters are always so vehement in their praises of anything they like, that n.o.body else has a chance to know whether he likes it or not. I generally incline to the _not_."