It was growing late in the fall now. Mrs. Randolph began to talk of moving to the city for the winter. Mr. Randolph more than half hinted that he would like as well to stay where he was. But his wife said that for Daisy\'s sake they must quit Melbourne, and try what new scenes, and lessons, and dancing school would do for her. "Not improve the colour in her cheeks, I am afraid," said Mr. Randolph; but however he did not oppose, and Mrs. Randolph made her arrangements.

It was yet but a day or two after the tableaux, when something happened to disturb her plans. Mr. Randolph was out riding with her, one fine October morning, when his horse became unruly in consequence of a stone hitting him; a chance stone thrown from a careless hand. The animal was restive, took the stone very much in dudgeon, ran, and carrying his rider under a tree, Mr. Randolph\'s forehead was struck by a low-lying limb and he was thrown off. The blow was severe; he was stunned; and had not yet recovered his senses when they brought him back to Melbourne. Mrs. Randolph was in a state almost as much beyond self-management. Daisy was out of the house. Mrs. Gary had left Melbourne; and till the doctor arrived Mrs. Randolph was nearly distracted.

He came; and though his fine face took no gloom upon it and his blue eye was as usual impenetrable, the eyes that anxiously watched him were not satisfied. Dr. Sandford said nothing; and Mrs. Randolph had self-control sufficient not to question him, while he made his examinations and applied his remedies. But the remedies, though severe, were a good while in bringing back any token of consciousness. It came at last, faintly. The doctor summoned Mrs. Randolph out of the room then and ordered that his patient should be kept in the most absolute and profound quiet. No disturbance or excitement must be permitted to come near him.

"How long, doctor?"

"I beg your pardon, Mrs. Randolph?—"

"How long will it be before he is better?"

"I cannot say that. Any excitement or disturbance would much delay it. Let him hear nothing and see nothing—except you, and some attendant that he is accustomed to."

"O doctor, can\'t you stay till he is better?"

"I will return again very soon, Mrs. Randolph. There is nothing to be done at present for which I am needed."

"But you will come back as soon as you can?"

"Certainly!"

"And O, Dr. Sandford, cannot you take Daisy away?"

"Where is she?"

"I don\'t know—she is not come home. Do take her away!"

The doctor went thoughtfully down stairs, and checking his first movement to go out of the front door, turned to the library. Nobody was there; but he heard voices, and passed out upon the piazza. Daisy\'s pony chaise stood at the foot of the steps; she herself had just alighted. Preston was there too, and it was his voice the doctor had first heard, in anxious entreaty.

"Come, Daisy!—it\'s capital down at the river; and I want to shew you something."

"I think I am tired now, Preston. I\'ll go another time," said Daisy.

"Daisy, I want you now. Come! come!—I want you to go now, this minute."

"But I do not feel like a walk, Preston. I can\'t go till I have had my dinner."

Preston looked imploringly at the doctor, towards whom Daisy was now mounting the steps. It is safe to say that the doctor would willingly have been spared his present task.

"Where have you been now, Daisy?" he said.

Daisy\'s face brightened into its usual smile at sight of him. "I have been to Crum Elbow, Dr. Sandford."

"Suppose you go a little further and have luncheon with Mrs. Sandford and me? It will not take us long to get to it."

"Does mamma say so, Dr. Sandford?"

"Yes."

"Then I will be ready in a moment."

"Where are you going?" said her friend stopping her.

"Only up stairs for a minute. I will be ready in two minutes, Dr.
Sandford."

"Stop," said the doctor, still detaining her. "I would rather not have you go up stairs. Your father is not quite well, and I want him kept quiet."

What a shadow came over Daisy\'s sunshine.

"Papa not well! What is the matter?"

"He does not feel quite like himself, and I wish him left in perfect repose."

"What is the matter with him, Dr. Sandford?"

Daisy\'s words were quiet, but the doctor saw the gathering woe on her cheek; the roused suspicion. This would not do to go on.

"He has had a little accident, Daisy; nothing that you need distress yourself about; but I wish him to be quite quiet for a little."

Daisy said nothing now, but the speech of her silent face was so eloquent that the doctor found it expedient to go on.

"He was riding this morning; his horse took him under the low bough of a tree, and his head got a severe blow. That is all the matter."

"Was papa thrown?" said Daisy under her breath.

"I believe he was. Any horseman might be unseated by such a thing."

Daisy again was mute, and again the doctor found himself obliged to answer the agony of her eyes.

"I do not think he is in much, if any, pain, Daisy; but I want him to be still for a while. I think that is good for him; and it would not be good that you should disturb him. Your mother is there, and that is enough."

Daisy stood quite still for a few minutes. Then making an effort to withdraw herself from the doctor\'s arm she said,

"I will not go into the room—I will not make any noise."

"Stop! Daisy, you must not go up stairs. Not this morning."

She stood still again, grew white and trembled.

"As soon as I think it will do him good to see you, I will let you into his room. Now, shall we send June up for anything you want?"

"I think, Dr. Sandford," said Daisy struggling for steadiness, "I will not go away from home."

Her words were inexpressibly tender and sorrowful. The doctor was unrelenting.

"Your mother desired it."

"Did mamma——?"

"Yes; she wished me to carry you home with me. Come, Daisy! It is hard, but it is less hard after all than it would be for you to wander about here; and much better."

Daisy in her extremity sunk her head on the doctor\'s shoulder, and so remained, motionless, for more minutes than he had to spare. Yet he was still too, and waited. Then he spoke to her again.

"I will go," said Daisy.

"You wanted something first?"

"I did not want anything but to change my gloves. It is no matter."

Very glad to have gained his point, the doctor went off with his charge; drove her very fast to his own home, and there left her in Mrs. Sandford\'s care; while he drove off furiously again to see another patient before he returned to Melbourne.

It was a long day after that to Daisy; and so it was to Mrs. Sandford. Nora Dinwiddie was no longer with her; there was nobody to be a distraction or a pleasure to the grave little child who went about with such a weird stillness or sat motionless with such unchildlike quiet. Mrs. Sandford did not know what to do; but indeed nothing could be done with Daisy. She could not be amused or happy; she did not wish Nora were there; she could only keep patient and wait, and wait, with a sore, straining heart, while the hours passed and Dr. Sandford did not come and she had no tidings. Was she patient? It seemed to Daisy that her heart would burst with impatience; or rather with its eager longing to know how things were at home and to get some relief. The hours of the day went by, and no relief came. Dr. Sandford did not return. Daisy took it as no good omen.

It was hard to sit at the dinner-table and have Mr. and Mrs. Sandford shewing her kindness, while her heart was breaking. It was hard to be quiet and still and answer politely and make no trouble for her entertainers. It was hard; but Daisy did it. It was hard to eat too; and that Daisy could not do. It was impossible.

"Mustn\'t be cast down," said Mr. Sandford. He was one of the people who look as if they never could be. Black whiskers and a round face sometimes have that kind of look. "Mustn\'t be cast down! No need. Everybody gets a tumble from horseback once or twice in his life. I\'ve had it seven times. Not pleasant; but it don\'t hurt you much, nine times in ten."

"Hush, Mr. Sandford," said his wife. "Daisy cannot feel about it just as you do."

"Never been thrown yet herself, eh! Give her one of those peaches, my dear—she will like that better than meats to-day. Eat one of my red-cheeked peaches, Daisy; and tell me whether you have any so good at Melbourne. I don\'t believe it."

Daisy peeled her peach. It was all she could bear to do. She peeled it carefully and slowly; there never was a peach so long in paring; for it was hardly more than finished when they rose from table. She had tried to taste it too; that was all; the taste never reached her consciousness. Mrs. Sandford knew better than her husband, and let her alone.

Daisy could think of nothing now but to watch for the doctor; and to do it with the most comfort and the best chance she placed herself on the steps of the piazza, sitting down on the uppermost step. It was a fair evening; warm and mild; and Mrs. Sandford sitting in her drawing-room with the windows open was but a few feet from Daisy and could observe her. She did so very often, with a sorrowful eye. Daisy\'............