pa--he was knocked off his horse yesterday--_and they won't let me
see him!_"

So far Daisy's power of composure went, and no further. With that last
word her voice failed. She threw her arms around Juanita, and hiding her
face in her gown, burst into such tears as Daisy rarely shed at all;
very rarely under any one's observation. Juanita, very much startled,
sat down and drew the child into her arms, so far as she could; for
Daisy had sunk on her knees, and with her face in Juanita's lap was
weeping all her heart out. Mrs. Benoit hardly knew how to ask questions.

"Why must not Miss Daisy see her papa?"

"I don't know!--I suppose--he's not well enough."

Juanita breathed more freely.

"Let us pray for him, Miss Daisy."

"O yes, Juanita, do!--"

There was an intensity of meaning in these words and in Daisy's hurried
assuming of another place and posture to leave Juanita free to kneel
too, that almost took away the black woman's power of speech. She read
what was breaking the child's heart; she knew what for was that
suppressed cry of longing. For a moment Juanita was silent. But she had
long known not only trouble but the refuge from trouble; and to that
refuge she now went, and carried Daisy. As one goes who has often been
there; who has many a time proved it a sure refuge; who knows it sure
and safe and unfailing. So she prayed; while Daisy's sobs at first were
excessive, and then by degrees calmed and quieted and ceased. They were
quite still before Juanita finished; and when they rose up from their
knees Daisy's face was composed again. Then, she came and stood with her
hand on Juanita's shoulder, both of them silent; till Daisy put her lips
to the fine olive-dark cheek of the old woman and kissed it. Juanita
drew her into her arms, and Daisy sat there, nestling and tired.

"Can Miss Daisy trust the Lord?"

"Trust him,--how. Juanita?"

"That he do no harm to his little child?"

"O it isn't _me_, Juanita--" Daisy said with a very tender and sad
accent.

"When Joseph--my love knows the story--when he was sold away from his
father and home, to be servant of strangers far off--maybe he thought it
was hard times. But the Lord meant it for good, and the father and the
child came together again, in a happy day."

Daisy rose up, or rather raised her head, and looked steadily in her
friend's face as if to see what this might mean.

"The Lord knoweth them that trust in him," said the black woman.

Daisy's h