"
"Go off and play with Nora Dinwiddie. Are you ready to go?"
"Yes, papa--except my hat and gloves."
"Do not think anymore to-day. I will think for you by and by. But Daisy,
why should you and I set ourselves up to be better than other people?"
"How, papa?"
"Do you know anybody else that lives up to your views on the subject of
thanksgiving?"
"O yes, papa."
"Who?"
Daisy softly said, "Juanita does, papa, I think."
"A poor ignorant woman, Daisy, and very likely full of superstitions.
Her race often are."
"What is a superstition, papa?"
"A religious notion which has no foundation in truth."
"Then papa, can it be superstition to do just what God tells us to do?"
"You are too deep for me, Daisy," said Mr. Randolph languidly. "Go and
get ready for Dr. Sandford. He will be here presently."
So Daisy went, feeling very uncertain of the result of her talk, but
doubtful and discouraged. Mr. Randolph had a book in hand when she
returned to the library: she could not speak to him any more; and soon
indeed the doctor came, helped her into his gig, and drove off with her.
Now it was pleasant. The fine gravelled roads in the grounds of
Melbourne were in beautiful order after the rain; no dust rose yet, and
all the trees and flowers were in a refreshed state of life and
sweetness. Truly it was a very hot day, but Daisy found nothing amiss.
Neither, apparently, did the doctor's good horse. He trotted along
without seeming to mind the sun; and Daisy in a good deal of glee
enjoyed everything.
Pages:
118
119
120
121
122
123
124
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
132
133
134
135
136
137
138
139
140
141
142