“Miss Daisy—­”

“What, Juanita?”

“My love take her tea, to be strong; and then see how many she can bring out of the darkness.”

“I, Juanita?” said Daisy rousing up.

“Maybe the Lord send his message by little hands.  What hinder?”

“But, Juanita, I can’t do anything?”

“Carry the Lord’s message, Miss Daisy.”

“Can I?”

“Why not, my love?  The dear Lord, he do all.  And Miss Daisy knows, he hear the prayer of his servants.”

The child looked at the black woman, with a wistful, earnest, searching look that it was curious to see.  She said nothing more; she eyed Juanita as if she were searching into the depth of something; then she went on with her supper.  She was thoughtful all the evening; busy with cogitations which she did not reveal; quiet and absent minded.  Juanita guessed why; and many a prayer went up from her own secret heart.

But from, about this time Daisy began to grow well again.  She could not be moved, of course; Dr. Sandford would not permit that; neither to be carried home, nor to change her place and position in the cottage.  But she was getting ready for it.  The latter half of August cooled off from its fierce heats and was pleasantly warm.  Daisy took the benefit of the change.  She had rather a good time, those last weeks at Juanita’s house; and perhaps that was one reason why Dr. Sandford, seeing it, chose to let well alone and would not have anybody take Daisy home.  Daisy had a very good time.  She had the peace of Juanita’s house; and at home she knew there would be things to trouble her.  She had books and could read now as much as she liked; and she was very fond of reading.  Preston did not find it expedient to bring the geography tray; on the other hand, Mr. Randolph thought it good to come every day and spend a piece of time with his little daughter; and became better acquainted with her than ever he had been in his life before.  He discovered that Daisy was very fond of knowledge; that he could please her no way better than by taking up the history of England and reading to her and stopping to explain everything by the way which Daisy did not understand.  English history was certainly an old story to Mr. Randolph; but to discuss it with Daisy was a very new thing.  He found her eager, patient, intelligent, and wise with an odd sort of child-wisdom which yet was not despicable for older years.  Daisy’s views of the feudal system, and of the wittenagemot, and of trial by jury, and of representative legislation, were intensely amusing to Mr. Randolph; he said it was going back to a primitive condition of society, to talk them over with her; though there I think he was mistaken.  If Daisy had read those pages of history to herself, she would have passed over some of these matters at least with little heed; she would not have gone to anybody with questions.  But Mr. Randolph reading to her, it was an easy thing to ask the meaning of a word as they passed; and that word would draw on a whole little bit of talk.  In this intercourse Mr. Randolph was exceedingly gentle, deliberate, and kind.  Daisy had nothing to fear, not even that she might weary him; so those were hours of real enjoyment to both parties.