The Project Gutenberg eBook, Daisy in the Field, by Elizabeth Wetherell

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Title: Daisy in the Field

Author: Elizabeth Wetherell

Release Date: June 26, 2006 [eBook #18688]

Language: English

***START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK DAISY IN THE FIELD***

Warner, Susan, 1819-1885, Daisy in the field, 1868, Ward Lock edition n.d.

Produced by Daniel FROMONT

DAISY IN THE FIELD

BY ELIZABETH WETHERELL

Author of "The Wide, Wide World," "Queechy," etc., etc.

WARD, LOCK &CO., LIMITED
LONDON AND MELBOURNE

Printed in Great Britain by Butler & Tanner Ltd., Frome and London

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I. THE FIRST SMOKE OF THE BATTLEFIELD

CHAPTER II. AT THE RENDEZVOUS

CHAPTER III. IN REVIEW

CHAPTER IV. ON FOOT

CHAPTER V. ON HORSEBACK

CHAPTER VI. IN THE FIRE

CHAPTER VII. DETAILED FOR DUTY

CHAPTER VIII. DAISY'S POST

CHAPTER IX. SKIRMISHING

CHAPTER X. WAITING

CHAPTER XI. A VICTORY

CHAPTER XII. AN ENGAGEMENT

CHAPTER XIII. A TRUCE

CHAPTER XIV. FLIGHT

CHAPTER XV. OLD BATTLEFIELDS

CHAPTER XVI. THE FORLORN HOPE

CHAPTER XVII. OUT OF THE SMOKE

CHAPTER XVIII. A MARKED BATTERY

CHAPTER XIX. ONE FALLEN

CHAPTER XX. THE WOUNDED

CHAPTER XXI. THE HOSPITAL

CHAPTER XXII. ORDERS

CHAPTER XXIII. "HERE!"

"My half-day's work is done;
And this is all my part -
I give a patient God
My patient heart.

"And clasp his banner still,
Though all the blue be dim.
These stripes, no less than stars,
Lead after Him."

CHAPTER I.

THE FIRST SMOKE OF THE BATTLEFIELD.

While Miss Cardigan went with her nephew to the door, I remained standing by the fire, which could have witnessed to so much done around it that night. I felt strong, but I remember my cheeks had an odd sensation as if the blood had left them. I did not know Miss Cardigan had come back, till I saw her standing beside me and looking at me anxiously.

"Will you go and lie down now, my lamb?"

"Oh, no!" I said. "Oh, no - I do not want to lie down. I have not done my studying yet, that I came to do."

"Studying!" said Miss Cardigan.

"Yes. I want something out of some of your books. I have not done it. I will sit down and do it now."

"You're much more fit to lie down and go to sleep," said she, sorrowfully. "Let be the study, Daisy; and take some rest, while ye can."

"I shall have plenty of time," I said. "I do not want any rest, more than I shall get so."

Miss Cardigan sighed - I had heard more sighs from her that night than in all my knowledge of her before; and I sat down on the floor again, to pull out again the volumes I had put up, and begin my school work anew. As I touched them, I felt how much had come into my hands, and fallen out of my hands, since I took them up before, just a few hours ago. It would not do to think of that. I resolutely put it back, and set myself about getting out of the books the facts I wanted for my work. Miss Cardigan left the room; and for a time I turned over leaves vigorously. But the images of modern warfare began to mix themselves inconveniently with the struggles of long ago. Visions of a grey uniform came blending in dissolving views with the visions of monarchs in their robes of state and soldiers in heavy armour; it meant much, that grey uniform; and a sense of loss and want and desolation by degrees crept over me, which had nothing to do with the ruin of kingdoms. The books grew heavy; my hands trembled; yet still I tried to make good work, and bade myself deal with the present and let the past and the future alone. The "present" being represented by my school day and my studies. Could I do it? The past and the future rushed in at last, from opposite sides as it were, and my "present" was overthrown. I dropped my books and myself too, as nearly as possible; my heart gave way in a deep passion of tears.

Now I tried to reason myself out of this. What had I lost? I asked myself. What were these tears for? What had I lost, that I had not been without until only twelve hours before? Indeed rather, what had I not gained? But my reasonings were of no use. Against them all, some vision of Thorold's face, some sparkle of his eyes, some touch of his hand, would come back to me, and break down my power and unlock fresh fountains of tears. This passion of self-indulgence was not like me, and surprised myself. I suppose the reason was, I had been so long alone; I had been working my way and waiting, in exile from home as it were, so many days and years; nobody that loved me better than I loved myself had been near me for so very long; that the sweetness so suddenly given and so suddenly taken away left me a little unsteady. Was it wonderful? The joy and the grief were both new; I was not braced for either; the one seemed to add poignancy to the other; and between the two facts, that Thorold loved me, and that he was gone from me into what might be a duty of danger, - that he was gone into danger and that he loved me, - for a little while my soul was tossed back and forth like a ship on a stormy sea, unable to make any headway at all. And so Miss Cardigan found me. She half lifted half drew me up, I remember; made me lie down again on the sofa, gave me some hot tea to drink; and when she had made me drink it, she sat still looking at me, silent, and I thought a good deal disturbed. It would be difficult to tell why I thought so. Perhaps it was because she said nothing. I lay quiet with my face hid in my hands.

"What do you think to do with yourself to-day, now?" - was at last her practical question.

"What o'clock is it?" I whispered.

"It's just on the stroke of six, Daisy."

"I'll get up and go on with my work," I said; and I raised myself to a sitting posture accordingly.

"Work!" echoed Miss Cardigan. "You look like much of that! Your cheeks" (and she touched them) "they are the colour of my magnolia there that has just opened. A night's work Christian has made of it! I suppose he is travelling off as content as if he had something to praise himself for. The pride of these men! -"

I could not help laughing, and laughing made me cry. Miss Cardigan promptly put me back on the cushions and bade me lie still; and she sat in front of me there like a good shaggy human watch dog. I should not say shaggy, for she was entirely neat and trim; but there was something of sturdy and uncompromising about her which suggested the idea. I lay still, and by and by went off into a sleep. That restored me. I woke up a couple of hours