"
"Yes, Miss Daisy."
"They are playing pictures at home. I mean, we are. Mamma is going to
give a great party next week; and the pictures are to be all made and
shewn at the party. There are twelve pictures; and they will be part of
the entertainment. There is to be a gauze stretched over the door of the
library, and the pictures are to be seen behind the gauze."
"And does Miss Daisy like the play?" the black woman inquired, not
lightly.
"Yes, Juanita--I like some things about it. It is very amusing. There
are some things I do not like."
"Did Miss Daisy wish to talk to me about those things she not like?"
"I don't, know, Juanita--no, I think not. Not about those things. But I
do not exactly know about myself."
"What Miss Daisy not know about herself?"
"I do not know exactly--whether it is right."
"Whether what be right, my love?"
Daisy was silent at first, and looked puzzled.
"Juanita--I mean--I don't know whether _I_ am right."
"Will my love tell what she mean?"
"It is hard, Juanita. But--I don't think I am quite right. I want you to
tell me what to do."
Daisy's little face looked perplexed and wise. And sorry.
"What troubles my love?"
"I do not know how it was, Juanita--I did not care at all about it at
first; and then I began to care about it a little--and now--"
"What does my love care about?"
"About being dressed, Juanita; and wearing mamma's jewels, and looking
like a picture."
"Will Miss Daisy tell Juanita better what she mean?"
"Why, you know, Juanita," said the child wistfully, "they dress up the
people to look like the pictures; and they have put me in some very
pretty pictures; and in one I am to be beautifully dressed to look like
Queen Esther--with mamma's jewels all over me.
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