Melbourne House Part 34

"I mean, one of those songs that G.o.d likes to hear people sing on His day."

"Who is to be judge?" said Mrs. Randolph, ? "you or I?"

"Mamma," said Daisy, "I will do everything else in the world you tell me!"

"You will have to do everything else and this too. Isn't there a commandment about children obeying their mothers."

"Yes, ma'am."

"That is the very first commandment I mean you shall obey,"

said Mrs. Randolph, rousing herself enough to bring one foot to the floor. "You have no business to think whether a thing is right or wrong, that I order you to do; if I order it, that makes it right; and anybody but a fool would tell you so. You will sing that song from the 'Camp in Silesia' for me next Sunday evening, or I will whip you, Daisy ? you may depend upon it. I have done it before, and I will again; and you know I do not make believe. Now go to your father."

"Where is he, mamma?" said Daisy, with a perceptible added paleness in her cheek.

"I don't know. In the library, I suppose."

To the library Daisy went, with trembling steps, in great uncertainty what she was to expect from her father. It was likely enough that he would say the same as her mother, and insist on the act of submission to be gone through next Sunday; but Daisy had an inward consciousness that her father was likely to come to a point with her sooner than that. It came even sooner than she expected.

Mr. Randolph was pacing up and down the library when Daisy slowly opened the door. No one else was there. He stopped when she came in, and stood looking at her as she advanced towards him.

"Daisy, you disobeyed me last night."

"Yes, papa, ? but ?"

"I have but one answer for that sort of thing," said Mr.

Randolph, taking a narrow ruler from the library table.

"Give me your hand!"

Daisy gave it, with a very vague apprehension of what he was about to do. The sharp, stinging stroke of the ruler the next moment upon her open palm, made her understand very thoroughly. It drew from her one cry of mixed pain and terror; but after that first forced exclamation Daisy covered her face with her other hand, and did not speak again. Tears, that she could not help, came plentifully; for the punishment was sufficiently severe, and it broke her heart that her father should inflict it; but she stood perfectly still, only for the involuntary wincing that was beyond her control, till her hand was released and the ruler was thrown down. Heart and head bowed together then, and Daisy crouched down on the floor where she stood, unable either to stand or to move a step away.

"There! that account's settled!" said Mr. Randolph, as he flung down his ruler. And the next moment his hands came softly about Daisy, and lifted her from the floor and placed her on his knee; and his arms were wrapped tenderly round her.

Daisy almost wished he had let her alone; it seemed to her that her sorrow was more than she could bear.

"Is your heart almost broken?" said Mr. Randolph, softly, as he felt rather than heard the heavy sobs so close to him. But to speak was an impossibility, and so he knew, and did not repeat his question; only he held Daisy fast, and it was in his arms that she wept out the first overcharged fulness of her heart.

It was a long time before she could quiet those heavy sobs; and Mr. Randolph sat quite still holding her.

"Is your heart quite broken?" he whispered again, when he judged that she could speak. Daisy did not speak, however. She turned, and rising upon her knees, threw her arms round her father's neck, and hid her soft little head there. If tears came Mr. Randolph could not tell; he thought his neck was wet with them. He let her alone for a little while.

"Daisy ?"

"Papa."

"Can you talk to me?"

Daisy sank back into her former position. Her father put his lips down to hers for a long kiss.

"That account is settled," said he; "do you understand? Now Daisy, tell me what was the matter last night."

"Papa, it was Sunday night."

"Yes. Well?"

"And that song ? that mamma wanted me to sing" ? Daisy spoke very low, ? "was out of an opera; and it was good for any other day, but not for Sunday."

"Why not?"

Daisy hesitated, and at last said, "It had nothing to do with Sunday, papa."

"But obedience is not out of place on Sunday, is it?"

"No, papa, ? except ?"

"Well, except what?"

"Papa, if G.o.d tells me to do one thing, and you tell me another, what shall I do?" Daisy had hid her face in her father's breast.

"What counter command have you to plead in this case?"

"Papa, may I show it to you?"

"Certainly."

She got down off his lap, twinkling away a tear hastily, and went to the bookcase for the big Bible aforesaid. Mr. Randolph seeing what she was after, and that she could not lift it, went to her help, and brought it to the library table. Daisy turned over the leaves with fingers that trembled yet, hastily, flurriedly; and paused and pointed to the words that her father read, "Remember that thou keep holy the Sabbath day."

Mr. Randolph read them, and the words following, and the words that went before; then he turned from them, and drew Daisy to her place in his arms again.

"Daisy, there is another commandment there, 'Honour thy father and thy mother.' Is there not ?"

"Yes, papa."

"Is not one command as good as the other?"

"Papa, I think not," said Daisy. "One command tells me to obey you, ? the other tells me to obey G.o.d."

Childish as the answer was, there was truth in it; and Mr.

Randolph s.h.i.+fted his ground.

"Your mother will not be satisfied without your obeying the lesser command ? nor shall I!"

Silence.

"She will expect you to do next Sunday evening what you refused to do last evening."

Still silence, but a s.h.i.+ver ran over Daisy's frame.

"Do you know it?" said Mr. Randolph, noticing also that Daisy's cheek had grown a shade paler than it was.