"They often be. Miss Daisy, the moonlight will hinder you sleeping, I am afraid."
"I can't sleep. It's so good to look out! Juanita—there's that horse's feet, stopping just here."
Juanita went to her door, and perceived that Daisy spoke truth. Somebody down at her little wicket had dismounted and was fastening his horse to the fence. Then a figure came up the walk in the moonlight.
"Juanita!" cried Daisy with an accent of joy, though she could not see the figure from where she lay,—"it's papa!"
"Is she asleep?" said the voice of Mr. Randolph the next minute softly.
"No, sir. She knows it's you, sir. Will his honour walk in?"
Mr. Randolph with a gentle footfall came in and stood by the side of the couch.
"Daisy—my poor little Daisy!"—he said.
"Papa!—"
This one word was rich in expression; joy and love so filled it. Daisy added nothing more. She put her arms round her father's neck as he stooped his lips to her face, held him fast and returned his kisses.