, asserted itself everywhere. Perhaps, too, among causes, the
example of her mother's own elegant manner of shewing truth only as one
shews a fine picture,--in the best light,--might have had its effect.
Daisy's diplomacy served her little on the present occasion.

"Daisy!" said her mother, "look at me." Daisy fixed her eves on the
pleasant, handsome, mild face. "You are not to go anywhere in future
where Mr. Dinwiddie is. Do you understand?"

"If he finds you lost out at night, though," said Mr. Randolph a little
humorously, "he may bring you home."

Daisy wondered and obeyed, mentally, in silence; making no answer to
either speaker. It was not her habit either to shew her dismay on such
occasions, and she shewed none. But when she went up an hour later to be
undressed for bed, instead of letting the business go on, Daisy took a
Bible and sat down by the light and pored over a page that she had
found.

The woman waiting on her, a sad-faced mulatto, middle-aged and
respectable looking, went patiently round the room, doing or seeming to
do some trifles of business, then stood still and looked at the child,
who was intent on her book.

"Come, Miss Daisy," said she at last, "wouldn't you like to be
undressed?"

The words were said in a tone so low they were hardly more than a
suggestion. Daisy gave them no heed. The woman stood with dressing gown
on her arm and a look of habitual endurance upon her face. It was a
singular face, so set in its lines of enforced patience, so unbending.
The black eyes were bright enough, but without the help of the least
play of those fixed lines, they expressed nothing. A little sigh came
from the lips at last, which also was plainly at home there.

"Miss Daisy, it's gettin' very late."

"June, did you ever read the parable of the tares?"

"The what, Miss Daisy?"

"The parable about the wheat and the tares in the Bible--in the
thirteenth chapter of Matthew?"

"Yes, ma'am,"--came somewhat dry and unwillingly from June's lips, and
she moved the dressing-gown on her arm significantly.

"Do you remember it?"

"Yes, ma'am,--I suppose I do, Miss Daisy--"

"June, when do you think it will be?"

"When will what, Miss Daisy?"

"When the 'Son of Man shall send forth his angels, and they shall gather
out of his kingdom all things that offend and them which do iniquity,
and shall cast them into a furnace of fire; there shall be wailing and
gnashing of teeth. Then shall the righteous