"Look up here, and give me an answer."

"I can't very well tell you, sir."

"Why do you not want to go down stairs?"

"Because, Dr. Sandford, I am not good."

"Not good!" said he. "I thought you always were good."

Daisy's eye reddened and her lip twitched. He saw that there was some
uncommon disturbance on hand; and there was the wet spot on the pillow.

"Something has troubled you," he said; and with that he laid his
hand--it was a fresh, cool hand, pleasant to feel--upon Daisy's
forehead, and kept it there; sometimes looking at her, and as often
looking somewhere else. It was very agreeable to Daisy; she did not stir
her head from under the hand; and gradually she quieted down, and her
nerves, which were all ruffled, like a bird's feathers, grew smooth.
There were no lines in her forehead when Dr. Sandford took away his hand
again.

"Now tell me," said he smiling, "what was the matter? Shall I take you
down to the library now?"

"O no, sir, if you please. Please do not, Dr. Sandford! I am not ready,
I am not fit."

"Not fit?" said the doctor, eyeing her, and very much at a loss what to