“Well what business was it of yourn?” said the woman turning upon her.  “If we are poor, we don’t throw it in anybody’s face; and if you are rich, you may give charity to those that ask it. We never asked none of you—­and don’t want it.”

“I am not rich,” said Daisy gently, though she coloured and her eyes were full of tears;—­“I did not mean to offend you; but I thought you wanted the ham, and I had money enough to get it.  I am very sorry you won’t have it.”

“Did Mr. Lamb tell you we were beggars?”

“No, not at all.”

“Then what put into your head to come bringing a ham here? who told you to do it?”

“Nobody told me,” said Daisy.  “Yes there did, though.  The Lord Jesus Christ told me to do it, ma’am.”

“What do you mean?” said the woman, suddenly sobering as if she was struck.

“That’s all, ma’am,” said Daisy.  “He had given me the money to buy the ham, and I heard that your little girl wanted it.  And I remembered his commandment, to do to others what I would like they should do to me—­I didn’t mean to offend you.”

“Well I ain’t offended,” said the woman.  “I s’pose you didn’t mean no harm; but we have some feelings as well as other folks.  Folks may work, and yet have feelings.  And if I could work, things would be well enough; but I’ve been sick, miss, and I can’t always get work that I would like to do—­and when I can get it, I can’t always do it,” she added with a sigh.

Daisy wanted to go, but pity held her fast.  That poor, pale, ragged child, standing motionless opposite her!  Daisy didn’t venture to look much, but she saw her all the same.

“Please keep the ham this time!” she broke out bravely—­“I won’t bring another one!”

“Did nobody send you?” said the woman eyeing her keenly.

“No,” said Daisy, “except the Lord Jesus—­he sent me.”

“You’re a kind little soul!” said the woman, “and as good a Christian as most of ’em I guess.  But I won’t do that.  I’d die first!—­unless you’ll let me do some work for you and make it up so.”  There was relenting in the tone of these last words.

“O that will do,” said Daisy gladly.  “Then will you let your little girl come out and get the ham? because the boy cannot leave the horses.  Good bye, Mrs. Harbonner.”

“But stop!” cried the woman—­“you hain’t told me what I am to do for you.”

“I don’t know till I get home and ask there.  What would you like to do?”

“My work is tailoring—­I learnt that trade; but beggars mustn’t be choosers.  I can do other things—­plain sewing, and washing, and cleaning, and dairy work; anything I can do.”