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Updated: May 28, 2025
"O' course Miss Daisy do what she mind to. Him bery good, only some lazy." So I was mounted. Preston, Miss Pinshon, the servants' quarters, the multiplication table, all were forgotten and lost in a misty distance. I was in the saddle for the first time, and delight held me by both hands. My first moment on horseback!
"I don't know why, Miss Pinshon has very much given up walking of late." "Then what becomes of you?" "I do not often want to do much of anything," I said. "To-day I came here." "With a book," said the doctor. "Is it work or play?" "My History lesson," I said, showing the book. "I had not quite time enough at home."
"We shall have to let her do just as they did at Melbourne," said my aunt. "How was that?" said Miss Pinshon. "Let her have just her own way." "And what was that ?" "Oh, queer," said my aunt. "She is not like other children. But anything is better than to have her mope to death." "I shall try and not have her mope," said Miss Pinshon.
I felt cast away in a foreign land; further and further from the home feeling every minute; and it seemed besides as if the climate had some power of petrifaction. I could not keep Medusa out of my head. It was a relief at last when the tea was brought in. Miss Pinshon took the magazine out of my hand. "She has a good voice, but she wants expression," was her remark.
As I grew stronger, Miss Pinshon made more and more demands upon my time with her arithmetic lessons, and other things; but my rides with Darry were never interfered with, nor my Sunday evening readings; and indeed all the winter I continued too delicate and feeble for much school work. My dreaded governess did not have near so much to do with me as I thought she would.
The day was less weary than the day before, only I think because I was tired beyond impatience or nervous excitement. Not much was done; for though I was very willing I had very little power. But the multiplication table, Miss Pinshon said, was easy work; and at that and reading and writing, the morning crept away.
My best historical times thus far, by much, had been over my clay map and my red- headed and black-headed pins, studying the changes of England and her people. But Mlle. Genevieve put a new life into mathematics. I could never love the study; but she made it a great deal better than Miss Pinshon made it. Indeed I believe that to learn anything under Mlle. Genevieve, would have been pleasant.
If my hair were allowed to fall in ringlets on my neck, I would look very different. Miss Pinshon next inquired how much I knew? turning her great black eyes from me to aunt Gary. My aunt declared she could not tell; delicate health had also here interfered; and she appealed to me to say what knowledge I was possessed of. I could not answer. I could not say.
My sorrow I could not tell, and my love and my longing were equally beyond the region of words. I fancy it would have been thought by Miss Pinshon a very cold little epistle, but Miss Pinshon did not see it. I wrote it with weak trembling fingers, and closed it and sealed it and sent it myself.
And my aunt, grumbling at the whole matter, and especially at her share in it, found an additional cause of grumbling in that, she said, I had looked twenty per cent. better ever since this foolish thing got possession of my head. "I am wondering," she remarked to Miss Pinshon, "whatever Daisy will do when she grows up.
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