I stood
meek and helpless, expectant.
"Have you read any history, Daisy?"
I said no; then I said yes, I had; a little.
"What?"
"A little of the history of England last summer."
"Not of your own country?"
"No, ma'am."
"And no ancient history?"
"No, ma'am."
"You know nothing of the Division of the nations, of course?"
I answered, nothing. I had no idea what she meant; except that
England, and America, and France, were different, and of
course divided. Of Peleg the son of Eber and the brother of
Joktan, I then knew nothing.
"And arithmetic is something you do not understand," pursued
Miss Pinshon. "Come here and let me see how you can write."
With trembling, stiff little fingers — I feel them yet — I
wrote some lines under my governess' eye.
"Very unformed," was her comment. "And now, Daisy, you may sit
down there in the window and study the multiplication table.
See how much of it you can get this morning."
Was it to be a morning's work? My heart was heavy as lead. At
this hour, at Melbourne, my task would have been to get my
flat hat and rush out among the beds of flowers; and a little
later, to have up Loupe and go driving whither I would, among
the meadows and cornfields.
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