with an air of the
disparaged business.

"It is not bad, driving."

"No, I suppose not!"

"Your little daughter likes business better than you do." A smile came
over Mr. Randolph's face, a smile of much meaning.

"She likes it too well, doctor. I wish I could infuse some degree of
nonchalant carelessness into Daisy's little wise head."

"We must deal with things as we find them," said the doctor. "I met her
this afternoon in the road, with a carriage-load of business on hand;
but what was very bad for her, it was arrested business."

"How do you mean?"

The doctor rose here to give his chair to Mrs. Randolph, who stepped out
through the library window. He fetched another for himself and went on.

"She was in the middle of the road, her chaise loaded with baskets and
greenhouse plants, and with a general distribution of garden tools
between herself and her outrider. All in the middle of the road at a
stand-still--chaise and pony and all,--and Daisy herself in particular.
I found it was an interrupted expedition, and invited Daisy to take a
ride with me; which she did, and I got at the rationale of the affair.
And I come now to make the request, as her physician, not as her friend,
that her expeditions may be as little interfered with as possible. Let
her energies work. The very best thing for her is that they should find
something to work upon, and receive no interruption."

"What interrupted her this afternoon?"

"Conscience--as I understand it."

"There is no dealing with Daisy's conscience, doctor," said Mr. Randolph
with a smile. "What _that_ says, Daisy feels herself bound to do."

"Do not burden her conscience then," said the doctor. "Not just
now--till she gets stronger."

"Where was she going this afternoon?" Mrs. Randolph asked in her calm
voice.

"On an errand of the most Utopian benevolence"--

"Having what for its object?"

"A miserable old crippled creature, who lives in a poor cottage about
half a mile from your gate."

"What was Daisy desiring to do, doctor?"

"Carry some comfort to this forlorn thing, I believe; whom nobody else
thinks of comforting."

"Do you know what shape the comfort was to take?"

"I think," said the doctor,--"I am not quite sure, but I think, it was a
rose bush."

Mr. Randolph looked at his wife and straightened himself up to a sitting
posture.

"And what hindered her, Dr. Sandford?"

"I think, some understanding that she had not liberty to go on."