Washington; and then we might never have met."

"Are you vexed?" I said gently.

"You have wronged me, Daisy."

It gave me, I do not know whether more pain or pleasure, the
serious grave displeasure his manner testified. Neither pain
nor pleasure was very easy to express; but pain pressed the
hardest.

"I have been looking for the chance of seeing you; looking the
whole time," I said. "Everywhere, it was the one thing I was
intent upon."

"Daisy, it might have been lost altogether. And how many days
have been lost!"

I was silent now; and we walked some steps together without
anything more. But the next words were with a return to his
usual clear voice.

"Daisy, you must not be afraid of anything."

"How can I help it?" I asked.

"Help it? - but have _I_ brought those tears into your eyes?"

It was almost worth while to have offended him, to hear the
tone of those words. I could not speak.