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Daisy in the Field by Elizabeth Wetherell
page 74 of 506 (14%)
Better where the road was rough than where it was smooth;
easier where there was something to make interruption than
where Christian could give too exclusive heed to me. But I
could not gainsay him; and we rode on, till we came to a piece
of pretty broken ground with green turf and trees. Here Mr.
Thorold stopped and proposed that we should dismount; he said
we should talk more at our ease so. I thought my predetermined
measures of dignity could be more easily maintained on
horseback; but I could not bear to refuse him, and he did not
mean to be refused, I saw. He had dismounted even while he
spoke, and throwing his horse's bridle over the branch of a
tree, came to lift me down; first throwing his cap on the
grass. Then keeping me in his arms and bending a brilliant
inquisitive look on my face, he asked me,

"Daisy - is this my Daisy, as I left her?"

I could not help answering a plain yes. Nothing in me was
changed; and come what might, that was true. No other answer
would have been true. And I could not blame him that he held
me fast and kissed me, almost as he had done that first time.
Almost; but the kisses were more grave and deliberate now;
every one seemed a seal and a taking possession. Indeed the
whole manner of Mr. Thorold had taken gravity and manliness
and purpose; he was changed, as it would have taken much
longer in other circumstances to change a man. I stood still
and trembled, I believe; but I could no more check him than I
could that first night.

Still holding me fast, he lifted my face a little and smiling
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