A
teacher exactly fitted, however, to the scholar; Molly's poor closed-up
mind could best receive any truth in the way a child's mind would offer
it; but in this truth, the undoubting utterance of Daisy's love and
belief won entrance for her words where another utterance might not.
Faith is always catching.
So Daisy told the wonderful story, and displayed the power and love and
tenderness of the Lord with the affection of one who knew him _her_
Lord, and almost with the zeal of an eye-witness of his work. It was
almost to Daisy so; it seemed to her that she had beheld and heard the
things she was telling over; for faith is the substance of things not
seen; and the grief of the sisters, and their joy, and the love and
tenderness of the Lord Jesus, were all to her not less real than they
were to the actors in that far distant drama. Molly heard her
throughout, with open mouth and marvelling eyes.
Neither of them had changed her position, and indeed Daisy had scarce
finished talking, when she heard herself hailed from the road. She
started. Preston was there on horseback, calling to her. Daisy got up
and took up her trowel.
"Good bye," she said, with a little sigh for the lost vision which
Preston's voice had interrupted--"I'll come again, I hope." And she ran
out at the gate.
"It is time for you to go home, Daisy. I thought you did not know how
late it is."
Daisy mounted into her pony chaise silently.
"Have I interrupted something very agreeable?"
"You would not have thought it so," said Daisy diplomatically.
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