Then June went off after another sort of medicine of her own
devising, despising the drops which Mr. Randolph had given her. Without
making a confidant of the housekeeper, she contrived to get from her
the materials to make Daisy a cup of arrowroot with wine and spices.
June knew well how to be a cook when she pleased; and what she brought
to Daisy was, she knew, as good as a cook could make it. She found the
child lying white and still on the bed, and not asleep, nor dead, which
June had almost feared at first sight of her. She didn't want the
arrowroot; she said.
"Miss Daisy, s'pose you take it?" said June. "It won't do you no
hurt--maybe it'll put you to sleep."
Daisy was perhaps too weak to resist. She rose half up and eat the
arrowroot, slowly, and without a word. It did put a little strength into
her, as June had said. But when she gave back the cup and let herself
fall again upon her pillow, Daisy said,
"June, I'd like to die."
"O why, Miss Daisy?" said June.
"Jesus knows that I love him now; and I'd like--" said the child
steadying her voice--"I'd like--to be in heaven!"
"O no, Miss Daisy--not yet; you've got a great deal to do in the world
first.
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