“Well, do, Sam,”—­said Daisy after she had looked at the matter; and while he took Loupe out of harness she turned back to Juanita.

“What is gone wrong?” said the old woman.

“Nothing is wrong,” said Daisy; “only the pony has got his shoe off, and the boy is taking him to the blacksmith’s.”

“Will my lady come into my house?”

“No, thank you.  I’ll stay here.”

The woman brought out a low chair for her and set it on the grass; and took herself her former place on the sill of the door.  She looked earnestly at Daisy; and Daisy on her part had noticed the fine carriage of the woman, her pleasant features, and the bright handkerchief which made her turban.  Through the open door she could see the neat order of the room within, and her eye caught some shells arranged on shelves; but Daisy did not like to look, and she turned away.  She met Juanita’s eye; she felt she must speak.

“This is a pleasant place.”

“Why does my lady think so?”

“It looks pleasant,” said Daisy.  “It is nice.  The grass is pretty, and the trees; and it is a pretty little house, I think.”  The woman smiled.

“I think it be a palace of beauty,” she said,—­“for Jesus is here.”

Daisy looked, a little wondering but entirely respectful; the whole aspect of Juanita commanded that.

“Does my little lady know, that the presence of the King makes a poor house fine?”

“I don’t quite know what you mean,” said Daisy humbly.

“Does my little lady know that the Lord Jesus loves his people?”

“Yes,” said Daisy,—­“I know it.”

“But she know not much.  When a poor heart say any time, ’Lord, I am all thine!’—­then the Lord comes to that heart and he makes it the house of a King—­for he comes there himself.  And where Jesus is,—­all is glory!  Do not my little lady read that in the Bible?”

“I don’t remember”—­said Daisy.

The woman got up, went into the cottage, and brought out a large print Testament which she put into Daisy’s hands, open at the fourteenth chapter of John.  Daisy read with curious interest the words to which she was directed.

“Jesus answered and said unto him, If a man love me, he will keep my words:  and my Father will love him, and we will come unto him and make our abode with him.”

Daisy looked at the promise, with her heart beating under troublesome doubts; when the voice of Juanita broke in upon them by saying, tenderly,

“Does my little lady keep the Lord’s words?”

Down went the book, and the tears rushed into Daisy’s eyes.

“Don’t call me so,” she cried,—­“I am Daisy Randolph;—­and I do want to keep his words!—­and—­I don’t know how.”

“What troubles my love?” said the woman, in low tones of a voice that was always sweet.  “Do not she know what the words of the Lord be?”

“Yes,”—­said Daisy, hardly able to make herself understood,—­“but—­”