Melbourne House Part 5

"Thank you, sir!" was Daisy's deep e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.i.o.n.

"Don't thank me. Now will your pony get you home before dark?"

"Oh, yes, Mr. Dinwiddie! Loupe is lazy, but he can go, and I will make him."

The chaise went off at a swift rate accordingly, after another soft grateful look from its little driver. Mr. Dinwiddie stood looking after it. Of a certain woman of Thyatira it is written that "the Lord opened her heart, that she attended to the things which were spoken." Surely, the gentleman thought, the same had been true of his late little charge. He went thoughtfully home. While Daisy, not speculating at all, in her simplicity sat thinking that she was the Lord's servant; and rejoiced over and over again that she had for her own and might keep the book of her Lord's commandments. There were such things as Bibles in the house, certainly, but Daisy had never had one of her own. That in which she had read the other night, and which she had used to study her lessons for Mr.

Dinwiddie, was one belonging to her brother, which he was obliged to use at school. Doubtless Daisy could also have had one for the asking ? she knew that ? but it might have been some time first; and she had a certain doubt in her little mind that the less she said upon the subject the better. She resolved her treasure should be a secret one. It was right for her to have a Bible; she would not run the risk of disagreeable comments or commands by in any way putting it forward. Meanwhile she had become the Lord's servant! A very poor little beginning of a servant she thought herself; nevertheless, in telling Mr. Dinwiddie what she had, it seemed to Daisy that she had spoken aloud her oath of allegiance; and a growing joy in the transaction and a growing love to the great Saviour who was willing to let her be His servant, filled her little heart. She just knew that the ride home was lovely, but Daisy's mind was travelling a yet more sunshiny road.

She was intelligent in what she had done. One by one Mr.

Dinwiddie's lessons had fallen on a willing and open ear. She knew herself to be a sinner and lost; she believed that the Lord Jesus would save her by His death; and it seemed to her the most natural and reasonable and pleasant thing in the world, that the life for which His blood had been shed, should be given to Him. "If ye love me, keep My commandments." "I wonder," thought Daisy, "what they are."

CHAPTER III.

THE BIRTHDAY.

"What sort of an expedition did you have, Daisy?" her father asked at breakfast next morning. Company the evening before had prevented any talk about it.

"Oh, very good, papa! It was as good as a fairy tale."

"Was it?" said Mr. Randolph. "I wonder what pitch of excellence that is. I don't remember ever finding a fairy tale very good to me."

"Did you ever read any, papa?"

"I don't know! Were you not tired with your long drive?"

"Oh, no, papa!"

"Would you like to go again?"

"Yes, papa, very much."

"You may go as often as you like ? only always let Sam be along."

"Did you find out what Mrs. Parsons wants?" said Mrs.

Randolph.

"No, mamma ? she did not look as if she wanted anything, except to see me. And yet she is very poor, mamma."

At this speech Mr. Randolph burst into a round laugh, and even Mrs. Randolph seemed amused.

"Did she _look_ as if she wanted to see you, Daisy?"

"Papa, I think she did," said Daisy, colouring; "she said so at any rate; but I could not find out what else she would like."

"Daisy, I think she showed very good taste," said Mr.

Randolph, drawing his little daughter into his arms; "but it would be safe to take something else with you when you go."

"Your birthday is next week, Daisy," said her mother; "and your aunt Gary and your cousins will be here. What would you like to have, to celebrate the day?"

"I don't know, mamma," said Daisy, returning her father's kisses.

"You may have what you please, if you will think and tell me."

"Mamma, may I talk to Nora Dinwiddie about it?"

"Nonsense! What for?"

"Only to consult, mamma."

"Consult Ransom. He would be a much better help to you."

Daisy looked sober, and said nothing.

"Why not?" said Mr. Randolph. "Why not consult your brother?"

"Papa," said Daisy slowly, "Ransom and I do not understand each other."

"Don't you," said her father, laughing; "what is the cause of that, Daisy?"

Daisy was not very willing to answer, but being pressed by both father and mother, she at length spoke. "I think, papa, it is because he understands so many other things."

Mr. Randolph was excessively amused. "Ransom!" he called out to the hall.

"Please, papa, don't!" said Daisy.

"Ransom! ? come here. ? What is this? your sister says you do not understand her."

"Well, papa," said Ransom, an exceedingly handsome and bright- looking boy, and a great pet of his mother, "there are things that are not deep enough to be understood."

Daisy's lips opened eagerly and then closed again.

"Girls always use magnifying gla.s.ses where themselves are concerned!" went on Ransom, whose dignity seemed to be excited.

"Hush, hush!" said his father, ? "take yourself off, it you cannot maintain civility. And your mother does not like fishing-tackle at the breakfast-table ? go! I believe," he said as Ransom bounded away, "I believe conceit is the normal condition of boyhood."

"I am sure," said Mrs. Randolph, "girls have enough of it ?

and women too."

"I suppose it would be rash to deny that," said Mr. Randolph.

"Daisy, I think I understand you. I do not require so much depth as is necessary for Ransom's understanding to swim in."

"If you do not deny it, it would be well not to forget it,"

said Mrs. Randolph; while Daisy, still in her father's arms, was softly returning his caresses.

"What shall we do on your birthday, Daisy." said her father, without seeming to heed this remark.

"Papa, I will think about it. Mamma, do you like I should talk to Nora about it?"