"I hope I do too," said Daisy slowly. Then she paused, and looked up, a bright smile lighting her whole face. "No,—I don't hope—I know I do. I think I love the Lord Jesus in just the sort of way I used to love mother. I can't love poor father like that, can I? It is more like being so very sorry for him. Nursie, I don't know what I should do, if God didn't love me. I don't know what in the world I should do. It's just my one real comfort." "Then, Miss Daisy," said Mary, "if you feel like that, you won't need to be frightened any more about getting well, because you know He'll take care of you. Hasn't He said, 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee'?" "Yes," said Daisy thoughtfully, "I am quite sure. I ought to be quite sure. I suppose that is the real meaning of 'casting all your care on Him, for He careth for you.' I'll try not to be afraid any more." CHAPTER XI. A RICE PUDDING. "You don't know how to make a rice pudding. No, I shouldn't wonder if you don't," said Mrs. Simmons. Janet Humphrey intimated that this was a mistake. She knew quite well how to make a rice pudding. "O yes—you make a pudding of a sort, I don't doubt," said Mrs. Simmons. "Put a lot of rice into some milk, and boil it for half an hour into a sort of pap, fit to turn the stomach of anybody as looks at it; or maybe you have a grand concern, with sugar and butter and eggs in it. I dare say that's good to the taste,—and it had ought to be. But it isn't cheap, and folks have to give a thought to cheapness once in a while. What do you have mostly in the way of puddings?" "Well, my husband likes a good custard pudding as much as anything," said Janet. "Shouldn't wonder if he does. Maybe he'd like a turkey supper, and salmon for breakfast, as much as anything, too," said Mrs. Simmons. Janet did not perceive the satire. "I haven't got him salmon for a good while past," she said. "It seems to cost a lot." "There's a good many gentlefolk who don't touch salmon from year's end to year's end, without they come across it in a friend's house," said Mrs. Simmons. "And there's a good many more who are mighty sparing of eggs in puddings, because of the expense. Why, dear me, when I was cook in Mrs. Mason's family,—and a real out-and-out lady was Mrs. Mason, though she wasn't rich,—if I says to her, 'Why shouldn't we have a baked custard pudding, mum, for a change?' knowing she liked it uncommon; 'Why, Simmons,' says she, 'that'll take three or four eggs to make it big enough for us all, and you don't think I can afford four eggs to one pudding, do you?' says she. She was wonderful careful about her expenses always, and that's how it was her husband got along as well as he did, I make no doubt." "Well, I never thought gentlefolks had to count the price of eggs in a pudding," said Janet.