I can maybe help using my horsewhip; but I cannot manage the anger." "No--" said Daisy, looking up at him, and thinking how terrible it must be to have to encounter anger from his blue eye.
"What then, Daisy?
how do you make out your position ?" Daisy did not very well like to say.

She had a certain consciousness--or fear--that it would not be understood, and she would be laughed at--not openly, for Dr.Sandford was never impolite; but yet she shrunk from the cold glance of unbelief, or of derision, however well and kindly masked.
She was silent.
"Haven't we got into a confidential position yet ?" said the doctor.
"Yes, sir, but--" "Speak on." "Jesus will help us, Dr.Sandford, if we ask him." And tears, that were tears of deep penitence now, rushed to Daisy's eyes.
"I do not believe, Daisy, to begin with, that you know what anger means." "I have been angry this morning," said Daisy sadly.

"I am angry now, I think." "How do you feel when you are angry ?" "I feel wrong.

I do not want to see the person--I feel she would be disagreeable to me, and if I spoke to her I should want to say something disagreeable." "Very natural," said the doctor.
"But it is wrong." "If you can help it, Daisy.

I always feel disagreeable when I am angry.
I feel a little disagreeable now that you are angry." Daisy could not help smiling at that.
"Now suppose we go down stairs." "O no, sir.