The black woman's hand went tenderly over the little round head.
"And he say to his lambs--'Follow me.'"
"Juanita"--Daisy spoke without raising her head--"I want to please him
most."
"How Miss Daisy think she do that?"
Daisy's tears now, for some reason, came evidently, and abundantly. She
wept more freely in Juanita's lap than she would have done before father
or mother. The black woman let her alone, and there was silent
counsel-taking between Daisy and her tears for some time.
"Speak to me, Juanita"--she said at last.
"What my love want me to say?"
"It has been all wrong, hasn't it, Juanita? O have I, Juanita?"
"What, my love?"
"I know I have," said Daisy. "I knew it was not right before."
There was yet again a silence; a tearful silence on one part. Then Daisy
raised her head, looking very meek.
"Juanita, what ought I to do?"
"What my love said," the black woman replied very tenderly. "Please the
Lord."
"Yes; but I mean, how shall I do that?"
"Jesus please not himself; and he say, 'Follow me.'"
"Juanita, I believe I began to want to please myself very soon after all
this picture work and dressing began."
"Then it not please the Lord," said Juanita decidedly.
"I know," said Daisy; "and it has been growing worse and worse. But
Juanita, I shall have to finish the play now--I cannot help it. How
shall I keep good? Can I?"
"My love knows the Good Shepherd carry his lamb in his bosom, if she let
him. He is called Jesus, for he save his people from their sins.
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