The wet spot in her pillow no doubt he had seen long ago.

Daisy's eyes drooped.
"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.