By and by, when the light began to kindle in the tops of the trees, and Daisy was sure to be watching it and trying to get sight of some of the bird singers which were so merry up there, she would hear another sound by her bedside, or feel a soft touch; and there would be Juanita, as bright as the day, in her way of looking bright, bending over to see and find out how Daisy was.  Then, having satisfied herself, Juanita would go about the business of the morning.  First her fire was made, and the kettle put on for breakfast.  Daisy used to beg her to leave the door open, so that though she could not follow her with her eyes and see, she could yet hear what Juanita was doing.  She used to listen to hear the kindling put in the stove, and the wood; she knew the sound of it; then when the match was lit and applied she liked the rushing sound of the blaze and kindling fire; it gave pleasant token that the kettle would be boiled by and by.  But first she listened to Juanita’s feet brushing through the grass to get to the well; and Daisy listened so hard she could almost tell after a while whether the grass was dry or whether it was heavy with dew.  Juanita always carried the kettle to the well; and when she came back Daisy could hear the iron clink of the stove as the kettle was put on.  Presently Juanita came in then from her kitchen, and began the work of putting the house in order.  How nicely she did it! like the perfection of a nurse, which she was.  No dust, no noise, no bustle; still as a mouse, but watchful as a cat, the alert old woman went round the room and made all tidy and all clean and fresh.  Very likely Juanita would change the flowers in a little vase which stood on the mantelpiece or the table, before she felt that everything was as it ought to be.

When all that was done, her next attention was to Daisy herself; and Daisy never in her life had nicer tending than now.  If Juanita was a nurse, she was a dressing-maid too, of first-rate qualifications.  It was a real pleasure to have her ministering about the couch; and for that matter, the whole work of the morning, as Juanita managed it, was a regular and unfailing piece of amusement to Daisy.  And in the midst of it, every look at the black woman’s noble, sweet face, warmed Daisy’s heart with something better than amusement.  Daisy grew to love her very much.

This morning all these affairs had been gone through as usual; and leaving Daisy in a happy, refreshed state, Mrs. Benoit went off to prepare her breakfast.  Like everything else, that was beautifully done.  By and by, in she came with a tray and white napkin, white as napkin could be, and fine damask too.  For Juanita had treasures of various sorts, besides old moreen curtains.  On this tray for instance, there was not only a fine napkin of damask; there was a delicate cup and saucer of fine china, which Daisy thought very beautiful.  It was as thin and fine as any cup at Melbourne House, and had a dainty