Couldn't you do something to it ?" "My dear love, it will be better by and by--there is no help now for it, unless the Lord sends sleep.

I s'pose it must ache.

Can't Miss Daisy remember who sends the pain ?" The child answered her with a curious smile.

It was not strange to the black woman; she read it and knew it and had seen such before; to anybody that had not, how strange would have seemed the lovingness that spread over all Daisy's features and brightened on her brow as much as on her lips.

It was not patient submission; it was the light of joyful affection shining out over all Daisy's little pale face.
"Ay, it isn't hard with Jesus," said the black woman with a satisfied face.