Well, apropos of duty, you may go on about Miss Cardigan."

"I do not know a great deal to tell. Only that she is very good, very
kind to me and everybody; very rich, I believe; and very wise, I
think. I know nothing more--except the way her money was made."

"How was it?"

"I have heard that her mother was a marketwoman," I said very
unwillingly; for I knew the conclusions that would be drawn.

"Is it likely," Dr. Sandford said slowly, "that the daughter of a
marketwoman should be a good friend in every respect for the daughter
of Mrs. Randolph?"

"It may not be _likely_," I answered with equal slowness;--"but it is
true."

"Can you prove your position, Daisy?"

"What is your objection to her, Dr. Sandford?"

"Simply what you have told me. The different classes of society are
better apart."

I was silent. If Miss Cardigan was not of my class, I knew I wanted to
be of hers. There were certain words running in my head about "a royal
priesthood, a peculiar people," and certain other words too--which I
thought it was no use to tell Dr. Sandford.

"She has no family, you say, nor friends who live with her, or whom
you meet at her house?"

"None at all. I think she is quite alone."

There was silence again. That is, between the doctor and me. Mrs.
Sandford and her officers kept up a great run of talk hard by.

"Now, Daisy," said the doctor, "you have studied the matter, and I do
not doubt you have formed a philosophy of your own by this time. Pray
make me the wiser."

"I have no philosophy of my own, Dr. Sandford."

"Your own thus far, that nobody shares it with you."

"Is that your notion of me?" I said, laughing.

"A very good notion. Nothing is worse than commonplace people. Indulge
me, Daisy."

So I thought I had better.

"Dr. Sandford--if you will indulge me. What is _your_ notion of
dignity?"

He passed his hand over his hair, with a comical face. It was a very
fine face, as I knew long ago; even a noble face. A steady, clear,
blue eye like his, gives one a sure impression of power in the
character, and of sweetness, too. I was glad he had asked me the
question, but I waited for him to answer mine first.

"My notion of dignity!" he exclaimed. "I don't believe I have any,
Daisy."

"No, but we are talking seriously."

"Very. We always are when you are one of the talkers."

"Then please explain your notion of dignity."

"I know it when I see it," said the doctor; "but faith! I don't know