"I will tell you presently. In the next place--whenever you know the Lord's will, don't be afraid, but trust him to help you to do it. He always will, he always can. Only trust him, and don't be afraid." "Yes, Mr. Dinwiddie!" Daisy said; but with a gleam on her face which even then reflected the light of those words. "That's all, Daisy." "Then Mr. Dinwiddie, please tell me what you mean by 'everything?'" "If you love the Lord, Daisy, you will find out." "But I am afraid I don't know, Mr. Dinwiddie, what all my talents are." "He is a wise man that does. But if you love the Lord Jesus with all your heart, you will find that in everything you do you can somehow please him, and that he is first to be pleased." They looked into each other again, those two faces, with perfect understanding; grateful content in the child's eyes, watchful tenderness in those of Mr. Dinwiddie, through all their keenness and brightness. Then, he rose up and offered his hand to Daisy; just said "good bye," and was gone, he turned off another way, Daisy followed Miss Underwood's steps. But Joanna had got to the house long before she reached it; and Daisy thought herself very happy that nobody saw her come home alone. She got to her own room in safety. Daisy's heart was full of content. That day was the King's, to be sure; the very air seemed to speak of the love of Jesus, and the birds and the sunshine and the honeysuckle repeated the song of "The Lamb on Calvary." There was no going to church a second time; after luncheon, which was Daisy's dinner, she had the time all to herself. She sat by her own window, or sometimes she lay down--for Daisy was not very strong yet--but sitting or lying and whatever she was doing, the thought that that King was hers, and that Jesus loved her, made her happy; and the hours of the day rolled away as bright as its own sunshine. "Well, mouse." said her mother when Daisy came down to tea,--"where have you been? What a mouse you are!" "Intelligent--for a lower order of quadrupeds," said Mr. McFarlane. "The day has been insufferable!" said Mrs. Randolph. "Have you been asleep, Daisy?" "No, mamma." "You were lying down?" "Yes, mamma." Daisy had drawn up close to her mother who had thrown an arm round her. The family were gathered in the library; the windows open, the fresh air coming faintly in; the light fading, but no lamps needed yet. "I am glad the day is over!" said Mrs. Gary. "This morning I did not know how I was going to live through it. There is a little freshness now. Why is it always so much hotter on Sundays than on any other day?" "Because you think about it," said Mr. Randolph, who was moving from window to window setting the glass doors wider open. "There is nothing else to think about," said Mrs. Randolph with a yawn. "Gary, do bring me a cup of tea." "You ought to think about your evil deeds," said Mr. McFarlane obeying the command. "Then you would have enough." "_You_ would, you mean."