The moonlight shone in peacefully, and Daisy lying there and growing gradually calmer, began to wonder in herself that there should be so much difficulty made about anybody's doing right. If she had been set on some wrong thing, it would have made but a very little disturbance--if any; but now, when she was only trying to do right, the whole house was roused to prevent her. Was it so in those strange old times that the eleventh chapter of Hebrews told of?--when men, and women, were stoned, and sawn asunder, and slain with the sword, and wandered like wild animals in sheepskins and goatskins and in dens and caves of the earth? all for the name of Jesus. But if they suffered once, they were happy now. Better anything, at all events, than to deny that name! The evening seemed excessively long to Daisy, lying there on her bed awake, and listening with strained ears for any sound near her room. She heard none; the hours passed, though so very slowly, as they do when all the minutes are watched; and Daisy heard nothing but dim distant noises, and grew pretty quiet. She had heard nothing else, when turning her head from the moonlight window she caught the sight of a white figure at her bedside; and by the noble form and stately proportions Daisy knew instantly whose figure it was. Those soft flowing draperies had been before her eyes all day. A pang shot through the child, that seemed to go from the crown of her head to the soles of her feet. "Are you awake, Daisy?" "Yes, mamma," she said feebly. "Get up. I want to speak to you." Daisy got off the bed, and the white figure in the little night dress stood opposite the other white figure, robed in muslin and laces that fell around it like a cloud. "Why did you come to bed?" "Papa--papa ordered me." "It's all the same. If you had not come to bed, Daisy if you had been well,--would you have sung when I ordered you to-night?" Daisy hesitated, and then said in a whisper: "No, mamma--not that." "Think before you answer me, for I shall not ask twice. Will you promise to sing the gypsy song, because I command you, next Sunday in the evening? Answer, Daisy." Very low it was, for Daisy trembled so that she did not know how she could speak at all, but the answer came,-- "I can't, mamma." Mrs. Randolph stepped to the bell and rang it. Almost at the same instant June entered, bearing a cup in her hand. "What is that?" said Mrs. Randolph. "Master sent Miss Daisy some medicine." "Set it down. I have got some here better for her. June, take Daisy's hands." "Oh mamma, no!" exclaimed Daisy. "Oh please send June away!"