"I will try to be quiet," said Daisy.
She and the doctor looked at each other in a dissatisfied manner, she wistfully, he disapprovingly, and then the doctor went out. Daisy's eyes followed, straining after him as long as they could; and when she could see him no longer they filled with tears again. She was looking as intent and wistful as if she might have been thirty years old instead of nine or ten, when Juanita came to her side with the tea she had been making.
The tea and toast did Daisy good; and she was ready to enjoy a visit from her father, who spent the evening with her. But he would not let her talk.
The next day was hot again; however, Daisy felt better. The heat was more bearable. It was a very quiet day. Both she and Juanita obeyed orders, and did not talk much; nevertheless, Juanita sang hymns a great deal, and that was delightful to Daisy. She found Juanita knew one hymn in particular that she loved exceedingly; it was the one that had been sung in the little church the day she had heard Mr. Dinwiddie preach; it fell in with the course of Daisy's thoughts; and several times in the day she had Juanita sing it over. Daisy's eyes always filled when she heard it; nevertheless Juanita could not resist her pleading wish.
"Oh, the Lamb! the loving Lamb!
The Lamb on Calvary!
The Lamb that was slain, but lives again,
To intercede for me."
"I am so happy, Juanita," Daisy said, after one of these times. "I am so happy!"
"What makes it so, my love?"
"Oh, because that is true because He lives up there to take care of me."
"Bless the Lord!" said the black woman.
Towards evening of that day, Juanita had left the room to make her fire and attend to some other things, when Daisy heard her own name hailed softly from the window. She turned her head, and there was Preston's bright face.