As soon as we got to
Mrs. Sandford's parlour he gave it to me and ordered me to
swallow it. I suppose I looked dismayed.
"Poor child!" said Mrs. Sandford. "Let me have it beaten up
for her, Grant, with some sugar; she can't take it so."
"Daisy has done harder things," he said.
I saw he expected me to drink it, and so I did, I do not know
how.
"Thank you," he said, smiling, as he took the glass. "Now sit
down and I will talk to you."
"How she is growing tall, Grant!" said Mrs. Sandford.
"Yes," said he. "Did you sleep well, Daisy?"
"No, sir; I couldn't sleep. And then I dreamed."
"Dreaming is not a proper way of resting. So tired you could
not sleep?"
"I do not think it was that, Dr. Sandford."
"Do you know what it was?"
"I think I do," — I said, a little unwillingly.
"She is getting very much the look of her mother," Mrs.
Sandford remarked again. "Don't you see it, Grant?"
"I see more than that," he answered. "Daisy, do you think this
governess of yours has been a good governess?"
I looked wearily out of the window, and cast a weary mental
look over the four years of algebraics and philosophy, at the
bright little child I saw at the further end of them.
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