"And you do now?"
"I hope so," said Mary Davis.
"I hope I do too," said Daisy slowly. Then she paused, and looked up, a bright smile lighting her whole face. "No,—I don't hope—I know I do. I think I love the Lord Jesus in just the sort of way I used to love mother. I can't love poor father like that, can I? It is more like being so very sorry for him. Nursie, I don't know what I should do, if God didn't love me. I don't know what in the world I should do. It's just my one real comfort."
"Then, Miss Daisy," said Mary, "if you feel like that, you won't need to be frightened any more about getting well, because you know He'll take care of you. Hasn't He said, 'I will never leave thee nor forsake thee'?"
"Yes," said Daisy thoughtfully, "I am quite sure. I ought to be quite sure. I suppose that is the real meaning of 'casting all your care on Him, for He careth for you.' I'll try not to be afraid any more."
[CHAPTER XI.]
A RICE PUDDING.
"You don't know how to make a rice pudding. No, I shouldn't wonder if you don't," said Mrs. Simmons.
Janet Humphrey intimated that this was a mistake. She knew quite well how to make a rice pudding.
"O yes—you make a pudding of a sort, I don't doubt," said Mrs. Simmons. "Put a lot of rice into some milk, and boil it for half an hour into a sort of pap, fit to turn the stomach of anybody as looks at it; or maybe you have a grand concern, with sugar and butter and eggs in it. I dare say that's good to the taste,—and it had ought to be. But it isn't cheap, and folks have to give a thought to cheapness once in a while. What do you have mostly in the way of puddings?"