“By boat, sir, across the river; and the rest of the way is walking.”

“On plain ground?”

“Not exactly!” said Preston.

“How far do you call it?”

“Three miles.”

“Of walking!  I think Daisy may walk across this floor by next week; and in a little while after she may go up and down stairs.”

“O doctor!” exclaimed Preston.  “Why, at that rate, she cannot go to Silver Lake at all!”

“Does she want to go very much?” said the doctor.  The question was really put at Daisy’s face, and answered by a little flush that was not a flush of pain this time.  He saw what a depth of meaning there was in it; what a charm, the sound of Silver Lake had for Daisy.  No wonder, to a little girl who had lain for so many weeks looking out of one window, where there was not much to be seen, either.

“Who is going, Daisy?” said the doctor.

“Mamma means to make up a large party—­I do not know exactly who.”

“Then I think I can promise that you shall go too.  You may count upon me for that.”

Daisy’s eyes shone and sparkled, but she said not a word.  Preston was less sagacious.

“Will you do something to make her foot strong, sir?” he asked.

“When you have studied in my profession, you will know more about a physician’s powers,”—­was all the answer he got.  The doctor turned off to conversation with other people, and Daisy was left to herself again.  She was very happy; it was very pleasant to lie there comfortably on the sofa, and feel that her long imprisonment was over; it was amusing to look at so many people together, after having for days and days looked at only one; and the old wonted scene, the place and the lights, and the flowers and the dresses, yes, and the voices, gave her the new sense of being at home.  Nevertheless, Daisy mused a little over some things that were not altogether pleasant.  The faces that she scanned had none of them the placid nobleness of the face of her black nurse; no voice within her hearing had such sweet modulation; and Daisy felt a consciousness that Juanita’s little cottage lay within the bounds of a kingdom which Mrs. Randolph’s drawing-room had no knowledge of.  Gradually Daisy’s head became full of that thought; along with the accompanying consciousness, that a subject of that kingdom would be alone here and find nobody to help her.

“Daisy, what’s the matter?” whispered Preston.  “You are as sober as a judge.”

“Am I?” said Daisy.

“What’s to pay?”

“Nothing.  I feel very nicely.”

“Why don’t you look like other people, then?”

“I suppose,” said Daisy slowly, “I do not feel like other people.”

“I wish you’d make haste about it, then,” said Preston.

“Do be my own dear little old Daisy!  Don’t be grave and wise.”

“Are you going to spend the night here, Daisy?” said Dr. Sandford, coming up to the sofa.