isy, Mr. Randolph said I was to go with you anywhere you
went--to take care of you."

"Then come down to the beach, June; I'll be there."

Daisy stole down stairs and slipped out of the first door she came to.
What she wanted was to get away from seeing anybody; she did not wish to
see her mother, or Preston, or Capt. Drummond, or Ransom; and she meant
even if possible to wander off and not be at home for dinner. She could
not bear the thought of the dinner-table with all the faces round it.
She stole out under the shrubbery, which soon hid her from view of the
house.

It was a very warm day, the sun beating hot wherever it could touch at
all. Daisy went languidly along under cover of the trees, wishing to go
faster, but not able, till she reached the bank. There she waited for
June to join her, and together they went down to the river shore. Safe
there from pursuit, on such a day, Daisy curled herself down in the
shade with her back against a stone, and then began to think. She felt
very miserable; not merely for what had passed, but for a long stretch
of trouble that she saw lying before her. Indeed where or how it was to
end, Daisy had no idea. Her father indeed, she felt pretty sure would
not willingly allow his orders to come in conflict with what she thought
her duty; though if he happened to do it unconsciously,--Daisy would not
follow that train of thought. But here she was now, at this moment,
engaged in a trial of strength with her mother; very unequal, for Daisy
felt no power at all for the struggle,--and yet she could not yield!
Where was it to end? and how many other like occasions of difference
might arise, even after this one should somehow have been settled? Had
the joy of being a servant of Jesus so soon brought trouble with it?
Daisy had put the trunk of a large tree between her and June; but the
mulatto woman where she sat heard the stifled sobs of the child. June's
items of intelligence picked up by eye and ear, had given her by this
time an almost reverent feeling towards Daisy; she regarded her as
hardly earthly; nevertheless this sort of distress must not be suffered
to go on, and she was appointed to prevent it.

"Miss Daisy--it is luncheon time," she said without moving. Daisy gave
no response. June waited and then came before her and repeated her
words.

"I am not going in."

"But you want your dinner, Miss Daisy."

"No, I don't, June. I don't want to go in."

June looked at her a min