"Papa, if you lived in such a place, in such a way, wouldn't you like to have a friend come and see you sometimes?"

"Certainly! ? if you were the friend."

"I thought ? by and by ? she might learn to like it," Daisy said, in the most sedately meek way possible.

Her father could not forbear a smile.

"But, Daisy, from what you tell me, I am at a loss to understand the part that all this could have had in your happiness."

"Oh, papa ? she is so miserable!" was Daisy's answer.

Mr. Randolph drew her close and kissed her.

"_You_ are not miserable?"

"No, papa ? but ?"

"But what?"

"I would like to give her a little bit of comfort."

There was much earnestness, and a little sorrow, in Daisy's eyes.

"I am not sure that it is right for you to go to such places."

"Papa, may I show you something?" said the child, with sudden life.

"Anything, Daisy."

She rushed away; was gone a full five minutes; then came softly to Mr. Randolph's shoulder with an open book in her hand. It was Joanna's Bible, for Daisy did not dare bring her own; and it was open at these words ?

"Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them."

"What does this mean, Daisy? It seems very plain; but what do I want with it?"

"Only, papa, that is what makes me think it is right."

"What is right?"

"To do this, papa."

"Well, but, are you in want of somebody to come and make you happy?"

"Oh, no, papa ? but if I were in her place, then I should be."

"Do you suppose this commands us to do in every case what we would like ourselves in the circ.u.mstances?"

"Papa ? I suppose so ? if it wouldn't be something wrong."

"At that rate, I should have to let you go with your rose- bush," said Mr. Randolph.

"Oh, papa!" said Daisy, "do you think, if you asked her, mamma would perhaps say I might?"

"Can't tell, Daisy ? I think I shall try my powers of persuasion."

For answer to which, Daisy clasped her arms round his neck and gave him some very earnest caresses, comprised in one great kiss and a clinging of her little head in his neck for the s.p.a.ce of half a minute. It meant a great deal; so much that Mr. Randolph was unable for the rest of the day to get rid of a sort of lingering echo of Daisy's Bible words; they haunted him, and haunted him with a strange sense of the house being at cross purposes, and Daisy's line of life lying quite athwart and contrary to all the rest. "Whatsoever ye would that men should do unto you;" ? who else at Melbourne considered that for one moment?

However, Mr. Randolph had a fresh talk with his wife; the end of which was that he gave Daisy leave to do what she liked in the matter of Molly Skelton; and was rewarded on the spot by seeing the pink tinge which instantly started into the pale cheeks.

No lack of energy had Daisy for the rest of that day. She went off first to see what was the condition of her rose-bush; pretty fair; lying by the heels seemed to agree with it quite well. Then the pony chaise was ordered, and a watering-pot of water again; much to the boy's disgust who was to carry it; and Daisy took her dinner with quiet satisfaction. So soon as the afternoon had become pleasantly cool, Daisy's driving gloves and hat went on, the chaise was summoned, and rose-bush and all she set forth on her expedition. Mr. Randolph watched her off; acknowledging that certainly for the present the doctor was right; whether in the future Mrs. Randolph would prove to have been right also, he was disagreeably uncertain.

Still, he was not quite sure that he wished Daisy anything other than she was.

Troubled by no fears or prognostications, meanwhile, the pony- chaise and its mistress went on their way. No, Daisy had no fears. She did doubt what Molly's immediate reception of her advances might be; her first experience bade her doubt; but the spirit of love in her little heart was overcoming; it poured over Molly a flood of sunny affections and purposes, in the warmth and glow of which the poor cripple's crabbedness and sourness of manner and temper were quite swallowed up and lost. Daisy drove on, very happy and thankful, till the little hill was gained, and slowly walking up it Loupe stopped, nothing loth, before the gate of Molly Skelton's courtyard.

A little bit of hesitation came over Daisy now, not about what was to be done, but how to do it. The cripple was in her flowery bit of ground, grubbing around her balsams as usual.

The clear afternoon sunbeams shone all over what seemed to Daisy all distressing together. The ragged balsams ? the coa.r.s.e bloom of prince's feather and c.o.c.ks...o...b..? some straggling tufts of ribband gra.s.s and four-o'clocks and marigolds ? and the great sunflower nodding its head on high over all; while weeds were only kept away from the very growth of the flowers and started up everywhere else, and gra.s.s grew irregularly where gra.s.s should not; and in the midst of it all the poor cripple on her hands and knees in the dirt, more uncared-for, more unseemly and unlovely than her little plot of weeds and flowers. Daisy looked at her, with a new tide of tenderness flowing up in her heart, along with the doubt how her mission should be executed or how it would be received; then she gave up her reins, took the rose-tree in her hands, and softly opened the little wicket gate. She went up the path and stood beside the cripple, who hearing the gate shut had risen from her grubbing in the earth and sat back looking at who was coming. Daisy went on without hesitation now. She had prayed out all her prayer about it before setting out from home.

"I have brought you a rose-bush," she said simply. "Do you like roses? this is very sweet. I thought maybe you would like a rose. Where would you like to have it go?"

The answer was a very strange sort of questioning grunt ?

inarticulate ? nevertheless expressive of rude wonder and incredulity, as far as it expressed anything. And Molly stared.

"Where shall I put this rose-tree?" said Daisy. "Where would it look prettiest? May I put it here, by these balsams?"

No answer in words; but instead of a sign of a.s.sent, the cripple after looking a moment longer at Daisy and the rose- tree, put her hand beyond the balsams and grubbed up a tuft of what the country people call "creepin' Charley;" and then sitting back as before, signified to Daisy by a movement of her hand that the rose-bush might go in that place. That was all Daisy wanted. She fell to work with her trowel, glad enough to be permitted, and dug a hole, with great pains and some trouble; for the soil was hard as soon as she got a little below the surface. But with great diligence Daisy worked and scooped, till by repeated trials she found she had the hole deep enough and large enough; and then she tenderly set the roots of the rose-tree in the prepared place and shook fine soil over them, as Logan had told her; pressing it down from time to time, until the job was finished and the little tree stood securely planted. A great feat accomplished. Daisy stayed not, but ran off to the road for the watering-pot, and bringing it with some difficulty to the spot without soiling herself, she gave the rose-bush a thorough watering; watered it till she was sure the refreshment had penetrated down to the very roots. All the while the cripple sat back gazing at her; gazing alternately at the rose-bush and the planting, and at the white delicate frock the child wore and the daintily neat shoes and stockings, and the handsome flat hat with its costly ribband. I think the view of these latter things must in some degree have neutralised the effect of the sweet rose looking at her from the top of the little bush; because Molly on the whole was not gracious.

Daisy had finished her work and set down her empty watering pot, and was looking with great satisfaction at the little rose-bush; which was somewhat closely neighboured by a ragged bunch of four-o'clocks on one side and the overgrown balsams on the other; when Molly said suddenly and gruffly, "Now go 'long!"

Daisy was startled, and turned to the creature who had spoken to see if she had heard and understood aright. No doubt of it.

Molly was not looking at her, but her face was ungenial; and as Daisy hesitated she made a little gesture of dismissal with her hands. Daisy moved a step or two off, afraid of another shower of gravel upon her feet.

"I will come to-morrow and see how it looks" ? she said gently.

Molly did not reply yes or no, but she repeated her gesture of dismissal, and Daisy thought it best and wisest to obey. She bid her a sweet "good-bye," to which she got no answer, and mounted into her chaise again. There was a little disappointment in her heart; yet when she had time to think it all over she was encouraged too. The rose-tree was fairly planted; that would keep on speaking to Molly without the fear of a rebuff; and somehow Daisy's heart was warm towards the gruff old creature. How forlorn she had looked, sitting in the dirt, with her grum face!

"But perhaps she will wear a white robe in heaven!" thought Daisy.

Seeing that the rose-tree had evidently won favour, Daisy judged she could not do better than attack Molly again on her weak side, which seemed to be the love of the beautiful! ? in one line at least. But Daisy was not an impatient child; and she thought it good to see first what sort of treatment the rose-bush got, and not to press Molly too hard. So the next day she carried nothing with her; only went to pay a visit to the garden. Nothing was to be seen but the garden; Molly did not show herself; and Daisy went in and looked at the rose.

Much to her satisfaction, she saw that Molly had quite discarded the great bunch of four-o'clocks which had given the little rose tree no room on one side; they were actually pulled up and gone; and the rose looked out in fair s.p.a.ce and sunshine, where its coa.r.s.e-growing neighbour had threatened to be very much in its way. An excellent sign. Molly clearly approved of the rose. Daisy saw with great pleasure that another bud was getting ready to open and already showing red between the leaves of its green calyx; and she went home happy.

Next morning she went among the flower-beds, and took a very careful survey of all the beauties there to see what best she might take for her next attack upon Molly. The beauties in flower were so very many, and so very various, and so delicious all to Daisy's eye, that she was a good deal puzzled. Red and purple, and blue and white and yellow, the beds were gay and glorious. But Daisy reflected that anything which wanted skill in its culture or shelter from severities of season would disappoint Molly, because it would not get from her what would be necessary to its thriving. Some of the flowers in bloom, too, would not bear transplanting. Daisy did not know what to do. She took Logan into her confidence, so far as she could without mentioning names or circ.u.mstances.

"Weel, Miss Daisy," said the gardener, "if ye're bent on being a Lady Flora to the poor creature, I'll tell ye what ye'll do ? ye'll just take her a scarlet geranium."

"A geranium?" said Daisy.