That quite broke Daisy’s heart.  She rolled herself over upon her open Bible, so as to hide her face in her pillow, and there Daisy had a good cry. She standing out about a little thing, when Jesus was willing to forgive such loads and loads of naughtiness in her!  Daisy would have no friendship with her resentment any more.  She turned her back upon it, and fled from it, and sought eagerly that help by which, as she had told Dr. Sandford, it might be overcome.  And she had said right.  He who is called Jesus because be saves his people from their sins, will not leave anybody under their power who heartily trusts in him for deliverance from them.

Daisy received several visits that day, but they were all flying visits; everybody was busy.  However they put to the proof the state of her feeling towards several persons.  The next day the first person she saw was the doctor.

“How do you do, Daisy?  Ready to go down stairs to-day?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Have you got the better of your anger?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Pray, at what hour did your indignation take flight?” said the doctor, looking at the gentle little face before him.

“I think—­about three hours after you were here yesterday,” said Daisy soberly.  The doctor looked at her, and his gravity gave way, so far at least as to let the corners of his lips curl away from some very white teeth.  Dr. Sandford rarely laughed.  And there was nothing mocking about his smile now, though I have used the word “curl;” it was merely what Daisy considered a very intelligent and very benign curve of the mouth.  Indeed she liked it very much.

“Have you seen the offending party since that time, Daisy?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And did you feel no return of displeasure?”

“No, sir.”

There was something so exceedingly sweet in Daisy’s expression of face, so unruffled in its loving calm and assurance, that Dr Sandford received quite a new impression in his views of human character.

“I shall have an account to settle with that young Preston one of these days,” he remarked as he took Daisy’s little form in his arms.

“O he did nothing!” said Daisy.  “It wasn’t Preston at all.  He had nothing to do with it!”

“He had not?” said the doctor.

“Not at all; nor any other boy.”

“Beyond my management, then!” said the doctor; and he moved off.  He had stood still to say that word or two; Daisy’s arm was round his neck to help support herself; the two looked into each other’s faces.  Certainly that had come to pass which at one time she had thought unlikely; Daisy was very fond of the doctor.

He carried her now down to the library, and laid her on a sofa.  Nobody at all was there.  The long windows were standing open; the morning sweet air blew gently in; the books, and chairs, and tables which made the room pretty to Daisy’s eyes, looked very pleasant after the long weeks in which she had not seen them.  But along with her joy at seeing them again was mixed a vivid recollection of the terrible scene she had gone through there, a few days before her accident.  However, nothing could make Daisy anything but happy just now.