But Joseph brought a kind of harp he had made from reeds and corn stalks; and when he began to play, Maud started, for it was as if she stood under the arching trees again, and the Beautiful Being stood beside her, with his sad eyes, saying, "O Maud, when you despise my little ones, you are despising me."
She thought it must only be a kind of waking dream, however, and tossing her head, asked Joseph if he could play any opera airs, and where he bought his harp, and who his teacher could have been.
"The trees, and river, and birds, the morning wind and midnight sky, sorrow, and joy, and hope have been my teachers," he answered gravely.
"They're an old-fashioned set, then," said Maud. "We haven't had any of the tunes you play at our balls this year; and you must find more modern teachers, or else be content to take care of your cows."
Joseph heard not her sneers; he was talking with Daisy; and every thing he said seemed so noble, and wise, and pure, so unlike the words of Maud or of the fretful dame, that Daisy could not help loving him with all her heart.
The more she thought of Joseph the less she said of him to Maud; but whenever her sister was away, they were sure to meet; and the herdsman grew as fond of Daisy as she was of him.
In the long winter evenings, when Maud was away at her balls, she little dreamed what pleasant times Daisy had at home. When floating about in the dance, to the sound of gay, inspiring music, she thought of her sister only to pity her, and did not know that she was listening to sweeter music from Joseph's humble harp of reeds.
We often pity people who are a great deal better off than ourselves, forgetting that what seems fine to us may be tedious enough to them.
Then it was such a new thing for Daisy to have any one think of her comfort, and plan pleasant surprises for her, and even admire her serious face, and—best of all—appreciate her spectacles.
As soon as Joseph came, he wanted her to put them on, and tell him about a hundred things which he had looked at only with his naked eyes. Daisy found so often that he had seen rightly and clearly, and had in humblest paths picked up most lovely things, and every where found what was best, she told him that he must have borrowed the old dame's lantern.