Daisy held the ends of silk he put in her fingers; but while he worked,
she thought. Might it not be possible that a good knowledge of geography
might have something to do with the use or the improvement of her
_talents_? And if a knowledge of geography, why not also a knowledge of
history, and of arithmetic,--and of everything! There could not be a
reasonable doubt of it. What would Preston be,--what would Mr. Dinwiddie
or Capt. Drummond be,--if they knew nothing? And by the same reasoning,
what would Daisy Randolph be? What could she do with her talents, if she
let them lie rusty with ignorance? Now this was a very serious thought
to Daisy, because she did not like study. She liked knowledge right
well, if she could get it without trouble, and if it was entertaining
knowledge; but she did not think geography at all entertaining, nor
arithmetic. Yet--Daisy forgot all about Preston's artificial flies, and
her face grew into a depth of sobriety.

"Preston--" she began slowly,--"is it hard?"

"Not just that," said Preston, busy in finishing a piece of work,--"it
is a little ticklish to stroke this into order--but it isn't hard, if
you have the right materials, and know how."

"O no--I don't mean flies--I mean geography."

"Geography!" said Preston. "O you are at the Crimea yet, are you? I'll
shew it to you, Daisy, when we go in."

"Preston, is the use of geography only to know where places are?"

"Well, that's pretty convenient," said Preston. "Daisy, just look for
that bunch of grey silk--I had it here a minute ago."