"What troubles has my love?" said the old woman.
Daisy turned her head quick round from the window, and smiled a very sweet smile in her face.
"I was thinking, Juanita."
"My little lady has a cloud come over her again."
"Yes, Juanita, I think I have. Oh, Juanita, I might tell you! What shall I do, when everybody wants me to do what what I don't think is right? What shall I do, Juanita? I don't know what I shall do."
"Suppose Miss Daisy take the Bible to her pa' Miss Daisy knows what her pa' promised."
"So he did, Juanita! thank you; I had forgotten that."
In five minutes more, Daisy was fast asleep. The black woman stood looking at her. There was no cloud on the little face now, but the signs of the day's work were there. Pale cheeks, and weary features, and the tokens of past tears. Juanita stood and looked, and twinkled away one or two from her own eye-lashes; and then knelt down at the head of the bed, and began a whispered prayer. A prayer for the little child before her, in which her heart poured itself out, that she might be kept from evil, and might walk in the straight path, and never be tempted or driven from it. Juanita's voice grew louder than a whisper in her earnestness; but Daisy slept on.