g still in one position, there were
shoots and twitches of pain that seemed to come from the broken ankle
and reach every part of her body; and she could not move about or turn
over to ease them by some change.

At last the weary hours began to grow less oppressive. The sun got low
in the sky; the air came with a little touch of freshness. How good it
was to see the sun lost behind the woods on the other side the road.
Juanita kindled her fire again and put on the kettle; for Daisy was to
have another cup of tea, and wanted it very much. Then, before the
kettle had boiled, came the doctor.

It was a pleasant variety. Dr. Sandford's face was a good one to see
come in anywhere, and in Daisy's case very refreshing. It was so noble a
face; the features fine, manly, expressive; with a sedate gravity that
spoke of a character above trifling. His calm, forceful eye was very
imposing; the thick auburn locks of his hair, pushed back as they were
from, his face, were beautiful to Daisy's imagination. Altogether he
fastened her attention whenever he came within reach of it; she could
not read those grave lines of his face; she puzzled over them. Dr.
Sandford's appearance was in some way bewitching to her. Truly many
ladies found it so.

He examined now the state of her foot; gave rapid comprehensive glances
at everything; told his orders to Mrs. Benoit. Finally, paused before
going, and looked into the very wise little eyes that scanned him so
carefully.

"Is there anything you want, Daisy?" he said with a physician's
familiarity.

"No, sir,--I thank you."

"Mrs. Benoit takes good care of you?"

"Very good."

The manner of Daisy's speech was like her looks; childlike enough, and
yet with a deliberate utterance unlike a child.

"What do you think about, as you lie there all day?" he said.

The question had been put with a somewhat careless curiosity; but at
that he saw a pink flush rise and spread itself all over Daisy's pale
face; the grey eyes looked at him steadily, with no doubt of some
thoughts behind them. Dr. Sandford listened for her answer. What _was_
the child thinking about? She spoke at last with that same sweet
deliberateness.

"I have been thinking, Dr. Sandford, about what Jesus did for me."

"What was that?" said the doctor in considerable surprise.

"Because it was so hard for me to keep still to-day, I thought--you
know--how it must have been--"

The flush deepened on the cheeks, and Daisy's eye