a
glance, but he listened.

"What does that mean, Daisy?"

"Mamma?"--said the child in distress.

"I ask you, what that means? what is it for?"

"Mamma--may I come round there and speak to you?"

"Certainly not. Sit still in your place and answer."

But Daisy was silent, very flushed.

"Do you hear, Daisy? what does that action mean? I wish to know."

"Mamma, may I speak to you in private and tell you?"

"Are you ashamed of it? are you ashamed to tell me?"

"No, mamma."

"Then do it at once."

But everybody waited in vain to hear the answer. It did not come.

"I shall not ask you again, Daisy."

"Mamma," said the child low and modestly, but with steadiness,--"I was
praying."

"Praying! were you! Why do you choose that particular time for your
private devotions?"

It was almost too much. The tears started in Daisy's eyes; but presently
she answered,--"Because God is good to us, mamma."

"He is always good," said Mrs. Randolph. "That is a very silly practice
of yours, Daisy, and very unbecoming. There is a proper way of doing
everything."

The lady's manner said that the subject was dismissed, and her guests
returned to their ordinary conversation. Except the doctor and Daisy.
She was overwhelmed, and he was gravely unsocial.

Was it silly?--that bound her heart had made up to the feet of her King?
That joyful thanksgiving, and expression of love, and pledge of
obedience, and prayer for help? It was something better than the meal
often to Daisy; something sweeter and happier. Was it silly? and must
she do so no more except when she was alone?

Daisy had quite forgotten that eating and drinking was part of the
present matter in hand, when Dr. Sandford softly asked her what she
would like to have. Daisy said anything he pleased; not caring herself,
and indeed in too much confusion of mind yet to know or think about the
business. And her appetite was gone. Dr. Sandford provided for her with
kind care, what she liked too; but nothing was good to Daisy. She broke
bread and swallowed milk mechanically; the more substantial food she
refused utterly. Bread and milk and grapes were Daisy's dinner.

"It's good to be somebody's favourite," Ransom said to her after the
meal was over. "Nobody got any grapes but you."

"Nobody? Why Ransom, I thought everybody had them."

"_I_ didn't,--nor Preston, nor Alexander--not a berry; and Nora and Ella
Stanfield didn't. You are the favourite."

"O Nora," said Dais