church by
the evergreens. Preston Gary was a good deal surprised to find them some
time later in another part of the grounds and going in a different
direction.

"Where are you bound, Daisy?" he asked.

"To church, Preston."

"Church is the other way."

"Yes, but Mr. Pyne is sick and the church is closed, and we are going
over to that little church on the other side of the road."

"Why that is a dissenting chapel, isn't it?"

"There's no more dissent amongst 'em than there is among other folks!"
broke in Miss Underwood with a good deal of expression. "I wish all
other folks and churches was as peaceable and kept as close to their
business! Anyhow, it's a church, and the other one won't let us in."

Preston smiled and stepped back, and to Daisy's satisfaction they met
with no further stay. They got to the little church and took their
places in the very front; that place was empty, and Joanna said it was
the only one that she could see. The house was full. It was a plain
little church, very neat, but very plain compared with what Daisy was
accustomed to. So were the people. These were not rich people, not any
of them, she thought. At least there were no costly bonnets nor
exquisite lace shawls nor embroidered muslin dresses among them; and
many persons that she saw looked absolutely poor. Daisy however did not
see this at first; for the service began almost as soon as they entered.

Daisy was very fond of the prayers always in church, but she seldom
could make much of the sermon. It was not so to-day. In the first place,
when the prayers and hymns were over, and what Daisy called "the good
part" of the service was done, her astonishment and delight were about
equal to see Mr. Dinwiddie come forward to speak. It is impossible to
tell how glad Daisy was; even a sermon she thought she could relish from
his lips; but when he began, she forgot all about it's being a sermon.
Mr. Dinwiddie was talking to her and to the rest of the people; that was
all she knew; he was not looking down at his book, he was looking at
them; his eyes were going right through hers. And he did not speak as if
he was preaching; his voice sounded exactly as it did every day out of
church. It was delightful. Daisy forgot all about it's being a sermon,
and only drank in the words with her ears and her heart, and never took
her eyes from those bright ones that every now and then looked down at
her. For Mr. Dinwiddie was telling of Him "who though