urse things were taking; and Daisy and her father
were a grave pair that evening.

Daisy felt his arms were a pleasant shield between her and all the
world; if they might only _keep_ round her! And then she thought of
Juanita's prayer, and of the invisible shield, of a stronger and more
loving arm, that the Lord Jesus puts between his children and all real
harm.

At last Mr. Randolph bent down his head and brought his lips to Daisy's,
asking her if she had had a nice time that afternoon.

"Very, papa!" said Daisy gratefully; and then added after a little
hesitation, "Papa, do you know old Juanita?--Mrs. St. Leonard's woman,
that Mr. St. Leonard built a little house for?"

"I do not know her. I believe I have heard of her."

"Papa, would you let me go into _her_ house? She has some beautiful
shells that I should like to see."

"How do you know?"

"I saw them, papa, through the doorway of her house, I waited there
while Sam went with Loupe to the blacksmith's."

"And you did not go in?"

"No, sir--you said I must not, you know."

"I believe Juanita is a safe person, Daisy. You may go in, if ever you
have another opportunity."

"Thank you, papa."

"What are you going to do with the hundred dollars?" said Mr. Randolph,
putting his head down and speaking softly.

Daisy waited a minute, checked the swelling of her heart, forbade her
tears, steadied her voice to speak; and then said, "I sha'n't have them,
papa."

"Why not?"

"I can't fulfil the conditions." Daisy spoke again after waiting a
minute.

"Don't you mean to sing?"

Every time Daisy waited.--"I can't, papa."

"Your mother will require it."

Silence, only Mr. Randolph saw that the child's breath went and came
under excitement.

"Daisy, she will require it."

"Yes, papa"--was said rather faintly.

"And I think you must do it."

No response from Daisy; and no sign of yielding.

"How do you expect to get over it?"

"Papa, won't you help me?" was the child's agonized cry. She hid her
face in her father's breast.

"I have tried to help you. I will give you what will turn your fancied
wrong deed into a good one. It is certainly right to do charitable
things on Sunday."

There was silence, and it promised to last some time. Mr. Randolph would
not hurry her: and Daisy was thinking, "If ye love me, keep my
commandments." "_If ye love me_"--

"Papa,"--said she at last, very slowly, and pausing between her
words,--"would you be satisfied,