Melbourne House Part 40

"If it would do a great deal of good ? wouldn't that make it right to do something?"

"Right to do something that the Lord say not do?"

"Yes."

"If you love Jesus, you not talk so," said Juanita, sorrowfully. But that made Daisy give way altogether.

"Oh, I do love Him! ? I do love Him!" she cried; ? "but I don't know what to do." And tears came in a torrent.

Juanita was watchful and thoughtful. When Daisy had very soon checked herself, she said in the same low, gentle way in which she had before spoken, "What do the Lord say ? to do that some good thing, ? or to keep His words?"

"To keep His words."

"Then keep 'em ? and the Lord will do the good thing Himself; that same or another. He can do what He please; and He tell you, only keep His words. He want you to show you love Him ?

and He tell you how."

Daisy sat quite still to let the tears pa.s.s away, and the struggle in her heart grow calm; then when she could safely she looked up. She met Juanita's eye. It was fixed on her.

"Is the way straight now?" she asked.

Daisy nodded, with a little bit of a smile on her poor little lips.

"But there is trouble in the way?" said Juanita.

"Yes," said Daisy, and the old woman saw the eyes redden again.

"Has the little one a good friend at home to help?"

Daisy shook her head.

"Then let Jesus help. My little lady keep the Lord's words, and the sweet Lord Jesus will keep her." And rising to her feet, and clasping her hands, where she stood, Juanita poured forth a prayer. It was for her little visitor. It was full of love. It was full of confidence too; and of such clear simplicity as if, like Stephen, she had seen the heavens open.

But the loving strength of it won Daisy's heart; and when the prayer was finished she came close to the old woman and threw her arms round her as she stood, and wept with her face hid in Juanita's dress. Yet the prayer had comforted her too, greatly. And though Daisy was very shy of intimacies with strangers, she liked to feel Juanita's hand on her shoulder; and after the paroxysm of tears was past, she still stood quietly by her, without attempting to increase the distance between them; till she saw Sam coming down the lane with the pony.

"Good-bye," said Daisy, "there's the boy."

"My lady will come to see old Juanita again?"

"I am Daisy Randolph. I'll come," ? said the child, looking lovingly up. Then she went down the slope to Sam.

"The blacksmith couldn't shoe him, Miss Daisy ? he hadn't a shoe to fit. He took off the old shoe ? so Miss Daisy please not drive him hard home."

Daisy wanted nothing of the kind. To get home soon was no pleasure; so she let Loupe take his own pace, anything short of walking; and it was getting dusk when they reached Melbourne. Daisy was not glad to be there. It was Friday night; the next day would be Sat.u.r.day.

Mrs. Randolph came out into the hall to see that nothing was the matter, and then went back into the drawing-room. Daisy got her dress changed, and came there too, where the family were waiting for tea. She came in softly, and sat down by herself at a table somewhat removed from the others, who were all busily talking and laughing. But presently Captain Drummond drew near, and sat down at her side.

"Have you had a good drive, Daisy?"

"Yes, Captain Drummond."

"We missed our history to-day, but I have been making preparations. Shall we go into the Saxon Heptarchy to-morrow ?

you and I ? and see if we can get the kingdom settled?"

"If you please. I should like it very much."

"What is the matter with you, Daisy?"

Daisy lifted her wise little face, which indeed looked as if it were heavy with something beside wisdom, towards her friend; she was not ready with an answer.

"You aren't going to die on the field of battle yet, Daisy?"

he said, half lightly, and half he knew not why.

It brought a rush of colour to the child's face; the self- possession must have been great which kept her from giving way to further expression of feeling. She answered with curious calmness, "I don't think I shall, Captain Drummond."

The Captain saw it was a bad time to get anything from her, and he moved away. Preston came the next minute.

"Why, Daisy," he whispered, drawing his chair close, "where have you been all day? No getting a sight of you. What have you been about?"

"I have been to Crum Elbow this afternoon."

"Yes, and how late you stayed. Why did you?"

"Loupe lost a shoe. I had to wait for Sam to go to the blacksmith's with him."

"Really. Did you wait in the road?"

"No. I had a place to wait."

"I dare say you are as hungry as a bear," said Preston. "Now here comes tea ? and waffles, Daisy; you shall have some waffles and cream. That will make you feel better."

"Cream isn't good with waffles," said Daisy.

"Yes, it is. Cream is good with everything. You shall try. I know! I am always cross myself when I am hungry."

"I am not hungry, Preston; and I don't think I am cross."

"What are you, then? Come, Daisy, ? here is a cup of tea, and here is a waffle. First the sugar ? there, ? then the cream.

So."

"You have spoiled it, Preston."

"Eat it ? and confess you are hungry and cross too."

Daisy could have laughed, only she was too sore-hearted, and would surely have cried. She fell to eating the creamed waffle.

"Is it good?"

"Very good!"

"Confess you are hungry and cross, Daisy."