Daisy's Work: The Third Commandment

by Joanna H. Mathews

But Daisy was as much a lady in the coarse but clean calico frock and patched shoes she had worn yesterday, as she was now in the nice clothes provided for her by General Forster; for it was the sweet manners and pretty ways she had never lost which made her so, and the new garments covered as warm and loving a little heart as the old ones had done. And so Betty found, and knew that pride would have no place there, when, as she reached the stand, Daisy drew her hand from the gentleman's, and running behind the stall as she had many a time done when she was eager to show Betty what a good afternoon's sale she had made with her flowers, threw her arms about her neck and kissed her again and again as lovingly as she had done when she had no other friend in the world.

Gentle Mrs. Forster gave Daisy a warm welcome to her new home; and the manner in which the child fell at once into the ways and habits of those about her plainly showed that they were not new to her, but that she had at some time been well accustomed to a different life than that she had led for the last two years.

She had ways of her own, too, that were very charming: a pretty, dainty grace in her behavior and speech; a thoughtfulness and care for others, surprising in any child of her age,—for Daisy could not be more than eight years old,—and particularly so for one who had had little teaching for some time. It was easy to see that Daisy had received careful training at one time, and that the lessons then learned had taken deep root and were not yet forgotten in spite of the long separation from her home and friends.

It had been intended, as General Forster told Betty, to send the little girl to boarding-school at Miss Collins'; but she soon grew so closely to the hearts of her new friends that they felt as if they could not bear to part with her; and it was at last settled that her home was to be with them for the present, at least, and that she should only go to Miss Collins for the morning, as most of the other little girls in Glenwood did.

Mrs. Forster could not bear to send from her this loving child, whose greatest happiness seemed to be in making others happy, and she grew every day more and more interesting as the familiar objects and customs about her called up past recollections of the home and parents she had lost. She would watch the General for hours at a time, as he sat reading or writing, or follow him with wistful eyes as he mounted his horse and rode down the broad avenue "just like papa;" would hang over the lesser Daisy as she lay sleeping, "'cause she looks just as our baby at home used to," and delighted to wait upon her and Mrs. Forster in a dainty, neat-handed manner, which showed that such loving service came quite naturally to her.

She never called the infant "baby," as the rest of the family did. With her it was always "little Daisy." She seemed to love the pretty name, either given to herself or another; and all the variety of choice flowers with which General Forster's garden was filled could not win her chief affection from her old favorite daisies, "'cause mamma loved them so and named me after them."

But though she remembered so much, the child could not recall the name of her parents, or where they had lived. Their name "was not what Betty called it," she was sure; but none the less had it passed from her mind.

"Francine," the French bonne, used to call mamma "Madame," and herself "Mademoiselle Marguerite;" but when she was asked what other people used to call mamma and papa, the little face grew clouded and pained with the effort to remember; and when name after name was mentioned to her, she shook her head at each one.

The General tried by every means in his power to discover the friends who must still be mourning the loss of their sweet little daisy blossom, but all in vain; and as week after week went by, he and his wife decided that they could not send her forth from their own roof unless her relations came to claim her. She was an added ray of light where all had been brightness and sunshine before,—a lovely, precious little flower, lending new fragrance and beauty to the home where she blossomed.