"But you heard her in broad day, Preston?"

"Yes; one afternoon it was. I heard her as soon as I got near the house. Daisy was asleep, and I went away as wise as I came."

"This grows interesting," said Gary, returning to Daisy.

"Could you hear the words that were said?"

"No."

"Only a muttering?"

Daisy was silent. The tears came into her eyes.

"Depend upon it, Daisy, it was incantations you heard.

Description agrees exactly. Confess now, didn't a sort of feeling grow over you ? creep over you ? whenever you heard that muttering sound, as if you would do anything that black woman told you?"

Daisy was silent.

"Don't you know it is not proper to pray so that people can hear you? ? 'tisn't the way to do. Witches pray that way ? not good Christian people. I regard it as a very fortunate thing, Daisy, that we have got you safe out of her hands. Don't you think that prayer ought to be private?"

"Yes," said Daisy. She was overwhelmed with the rapidity and liveliness of Gary's utterances, which he rattled forth as lightly as if they had been the multiplication table.

"Yes, just so. It is not even a matter to be talked about ?

too sacred ? so I am offending even against my own laws; but I wanted to know how far the old witch had got hold of you.

Didn't you feel when you heard her mutterings, as if some sort of a spell was creeping over you?"

Daisy wished some sort of a spell could come over _him_; but she did not know what to say.

"Didn't you gradually grow into the belief that she was a sort of saint, Daisy?"

"What is a saint, Mr. McFarlane?"

Gary at that wheeled partly round, and stroked his chin and moustache with the most comical expression of doubt and confusion.

"I declare I don't know, Daisy! I think it means a person who is too good for this world, and therefore isn't allowed to live here. They all go off in flames of some sort ? may look like glory, but is very uncomfortable ? and there is a peculiar odour about them. Doctor, what is that odour called?"

Gary spoke with absurd soberness, but the doctor gave him no attention.

"The odour of sanct.i.ty! ? that is it!" said Gary. "I had forgot. I don't know what it is like, myself; but it must be very disagreeable to have such a peculiarity attached to one."

"How can anybody be too good for this world?" Daisy ventured.

"Too good to live in it! You can't live among people unless you live like them ? so the saints all leave the rest of the world in some way or other; the children die, and the grown ones go missionaries or become nuns ? they are a sort of human meteor ? shine and disappear, but don't really accomplish much, because no one wants to be meteors. So your old woman can't be a saint, Daisy, or she would have quitted the world long ago."

Something called off Gary. Daisy was left feeling very thoroughly disturbed. That people could talk so ? and think so ? about what was so precious to her; talk about being saints, as if it were an undesirable thing; and as if such were unlovely. Her thought went back to Juanita, who seemed now half a world's distance away instead of a few miles; her love and gentleness and truth and wisdom, her prayers and way of living, did seem to Daisy somewhat unearthly in their beauty, compared with that which surrounded her now; but so unearthly, that it could not be understood, and must not be talked about.

Juanita could not be understood here; could Daisy? She felt hurt, and troubled, and sorry; she did not like to hear such talk, but Gary was about as easy to stop as a cataract.

Dr. Sandford, lifting his eyes from what had occupied them, though his ears had not been stopped, saw that the face of his little charge was flushed with pain, and her eyes glistening.

He came and took Gary's place, and silently felt of her hand and looked at her; but he did not ask Daisy what was the matter, because he pretty well knew. His own face, as usual, showed nothing; however, Daisy's came back to its accustomed expression.

"Dr. Sandford," said she softly, "what is a meteor?"

"Meteors are fiery stones which fall on the earth occasionally."

"Where do they come from?"

"Doctors are divided."

"But where do _you_ think they come from?"

If Dr. Sandford's vanity could be touched by a child, it received a touch then. It was so plain, that what satisfied him would satisfy her. He would not give the sceptical answer which rose to his lips. Looking at the pure, wise little face which watched his, he made answer simply, not without a smile: "I am inclined to think they are wandering bodies, that we fall in with now and then, in our journey round the sun."

"Dr. Sandford, what do they look like?"

"You have seen shooting-stars?"

"Yes ? are those meteors?"

"Those are meteors that do not come to the earth. Sometimes they are nearer, and look like great fire-b.a.l.l.s."

"Have you seen them."

"Yes, a great many."

"And have you seen them after they fell on the ground?"

"Yes."

"What are they like then?"

"A very black stone, on the outside, and made up of various metals and earths within."

"But then, what makes them look like fire-b.a.l.l.s, before they fall?"

"Can't tell, Daisy. As I said, the doctors are divided; and I really have no opinion that you would understand if I gave it."

Daisy would have liked to hear all the opinions, but she did not ask for them. Preston was still standing at the back of the sofa, and started a new subject.

"Dr. Sandford, how soon will Daisy's foot let her go to Silver Lake?"

"In what way do you propose to get there?"

"By boat, sir, across the river; and the rest of the way is walking."

"On plain ground?"

"Not exactly!" said Preston.

"How far do you call it?"