The child answered her with a curious smile. It was not strange to the black woman; she read it and knew it and had seen such before; to anybody that had not, how strange would have seemed the lovingness that spread over all Daisy's features and brightened on her brow as much as on her lips. It was not patient submission; it was the light of joyful affection shining out over all Daisy's little pale face. "Ay, it isn't hard with Jesus," said the black woman with a satisfied face. "And the Lord is here now,--praise his name!" "Juanita--I have been very happy to-day," said Daisy. "Ay? how has that been, my love?" "Because I knew he was taking care of me. It seemed that Jesus was so near me all the time. Even all that dreadful ride." "The Lord is good!" said the black woman with strong expression. "But my love must not talk." She began to sing again. "O what shall I do, my Saviour to praise! So faithful and true, so plenteous in grace. So good to deliver, so strong to redeem The weakest believer that hangs upon him." "O that's good, Juanita!" said Daisy. "Hush!--Juanita, it is very late for anybody to be out riding!" "Who is out riding, Miss Daisy?" "I don't know--I hear a horse's feet. Don't you hear?--there!" "It's some young gentleman, maybe, going home, from a dinner-party." "Don't draw the curtain, Juanita, please! I like it so, I can look out. The moonlight is nice. Somebody is very late, going home from a dinner party." "They often be. Miss Daisy, the moonlight will hinder you sleeping, I am afraid." "I can't sleep. It's so good to look out! Juanita--there's that horse's feet, stopping just here." Juanita went to her door, and perceived that Daisy spoke truth. Somebody down at her little wicket had dismounted and was fastening his horse to the fence. Then a figure came up the walk in the moonlight. "Juanita!" cried Daisy with an accent of joy, though she could not see the figure from where she lay,--"it's papa!" "Is she asleep?" said the voice of Mr. Randolph the next minute softly. "No, sir. She knows it's you, sir. Will his honour walk in?" Mr. Randolph with a gentle footfall came in and stood by the side of the couch. "Daisy--my poor little Daisy!"--he said. "Papa!--" This one word was rich in expression; joy and love so filled it. Daisy added nothing more. She put her arms round her father's neck as he stooped his lips to her face, held him fast and returned his kisses. "Cannot you sleep?" The question was very tenderly put. "I did sleep, papa." "I did not wake you?" "No, papa. I was awake, looking at the moonlight." "Pain would not let you sleep, my poor darling?" The sympathy was a little too trying. Tears started to the child's eyes. She said with a most gentle, loving accent, "I don't mind, papa. It will be better by and by. I am very happy."