Papa, she is all alone; the
neighbours bring her food, but nobody stops to eat it with her. She is
all alone by night and by day; and she is disagreeable in her temper, I
believe, and she has nobody to love her and she loves nobody."
"Which of those two things is the worst, Daisy?"
"What two things, papa?"
"To love nobody, or to have nobody to love her?"
"Papa--I do not know." Then remembering Juanita, Daisy suddenly
added,--"Papa, I should think it must be the worst to love nobody."
"Do you? Pray why?"
"It would not make her happy, I think, to have people love her if she
did not love them."
"And you think loving others would be better, without anybody to give
love back?"
"I should think it would be very hard!"--said Daisy with a most profound
expression of thoughtfulness.
"Well--this poor cripple, I understand, lacks both those conditions of
happiness?"
"Yes, papa."
"What then? You were going to tell me something about her."
"Not much about _her_" said Daisy, "but only about myself."
"A much more interesting subject to me, Daisy."
You could only see the faintest expression of pleasure in the line of
Daisy's lips; she was looking very sober and a trifle anxious.
"I only thought, papa, I would try if I could not do something to make
that poor woman happier."
"What did you try?"
"The first thing was to get her to know me and like me, you know, papa;
because she is rather cross and does not like people generally, I
believe.
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