Indeed where or how it was to
end, Daisy had no idea. Her father indeed, she felt pretty sure would
not willingly allow his orders to come in conflict with what she thought
her duty; though if he happened to do it unconsciously,--Daisy would not
follow that train of thought. But here she was now, at this moment,
engaged in a trial of strength with her mother; very unequal, for Daisy
felt no power at all for the struggle,--and yet she could not yield!
Where was it to end? and how many other like occasions of difference
might arise, even after this one should somehow have been settled? Had
the joy of being a servant of Jesus so soon brought trouble with it?
Daisy had put the trunk of a large tree between her and June; but the
mulatto woman where she sat heard the stifled sobs of the child. June's
items of intelligence picked up by eye and ear, had given her by this
time an almost reverent feeling towards Daisy; she regarded her as
hardly earthly; nevertheless this sort of distress must not be suffered
to go on, and she was appointed to prevent it.
"Miss Daisy--it is luncheon time," she said without moving.
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