“Nine years old,” thought Daisy; “there isn’t much of my life passed.  Perhaps, if I live a good while, I may do a great deal to serve the Lord.  I wonder if I know all the things I can do now! all my ‘talents’?  I am afraid of missing some of them, for not knowing.  Everything I have, Mr. Dinwiddie said,—­so Nora said,—­is a talent of some sort or other.  How strange Nora was to-day!  But I suppose she will come and tell me what was the matter.  Now about the talents—­I wish papa would come!  This birthday was one talent, and I thought it would be a good thing if papa’s people could be made to know that he is not ‘stuck up,’ if he is rich,—­but if neither he nor mamma come out to speak to them at all, I wonder what they will think?”

Daisy ran out again to view the table.  Yes, it was looking very handsome.  Joanna was there herself, ordering and directing; and china and glass, and flowers, and silver, made a very brilliant appearance, though none of the dishes were on the table as yet.

“But who is going to pour out the coffee and the tea, Joanna?” said Daisy.  “Aren’t you going to dress and come and do it for me?”

“La!  Miss Daisy, I don’t see how I can.  I expect the best plan will be to have you do it yourself.  That will give the most satisfaction, I guess.”

“Joanna!  I don’t know how.”

“Yes, you do, Miss Daisy; you’ll have the coffee urn, and all you have to do is to turn the faucet, you know; and Sam will wait upon you, and if you want tea poured out he can lift it for you.  It’ll taste twice as good to all the party if you do it.”

“Do you think so, Joanna?”

“I don’t want to think about it,” said Joanna; “I know without thinking.”

“But, Joanna, I can’t reach the things.”

“I’ll have a high seat fixed for you.  I know what you want.”

Daisy stood watching; it was such a pleasure to see Joanna’s nice preparations.  And now came on the great dishes of strawberries, rich and sweet to the eye and the smell; and then handsome pitchers filled with milk and ice-water, in a range down the table.  Then came great fruit cakes and pound cakes, superbly frosted and dressed with strawberries and rosebuds; Joanna had spared no pains.  Great store of sliced bread and butter too, and plates of ham and cold beef, and forms of jelly.  And when the dressed baskets of strawberries were set in their places all round the table, filling up the spaces, there was a very elegant, flowery, and sparkling appearance of a rich feast.  Why was not Nora there?—­and with the next thought Daisy flew back to the library to find her father.  He was found.

“Oh papa,” she said gently, though she had rushed in like a little summer wind, “are you going to come to the feast?”

“What for, my dear?”

“Papa, they will all like it; they will be pleased.”

“I think they will enjoy themselves better without me.”

“Papa, I am sure they would be pleased.”