is the worst, Daisy?"

"What two things, papa?"

"To love nobody, or to have nobody to love her?"

"Papa--I do not know." Then remembering Juanita, Daisy suddenly
added,--"Papa, I should think it must be the worst to love nobody."

"Do you? Pray why?"

"It would not make her happy, I think, to have people love her if she
did not love them."

"And you think loving others would be better, without anybody to give
love back?"

"I should think it would be very hard!"--said Daisy with a most profound
expression of thoughtfulness.

"Well--this poor cripple, I understand, lacks both those conditions of
happiness?"

"Yes, papa."

"What then? You were going to tell me something about her."

"Not much about _her_" said Daisy, "but only about myself."

"A much more interesting subject to me, Daisy."

You could only see the faintest expression of pleasure in the line of
Daisy's lips; she was looking very sober and a trifle anxious.

"I only thought, papa, I would try if I could not do something to make
that poor woman happier."

"What did you try?"

"The first thing was to get her to know me and like me, you know, papa;
because she is rather cross and does not like people generally, I
believe."

"So you went to see her?"

"I have never spoken much to her, papa. But I went inside of her gate
one day, and saw her trying to take care of some poor flowers; so then I
thought, maybe, if I took her a nice little rose-bush, she might like
it."

"And then like you? Well--you tried the experiment?"

"No, papa. I did get a rose-bush from Logan and he told me how to plant
it; and I was on my way to the cottage and had almost got there; and
then I recollected mamma had said I must not speak to anybody without
her leave."

"So you came home?"

"Yes, papa. No, papa, I went to ride with Dr. Sandford."

"Have you asked leave of your mother?"

"No, papa,"--said Daisy, in a tone of voice which sufficiently expressed
that she did not intend it.

"So my dear little Daisy," said her father drawing his arm round her a
little more closely--"you think a rose-bush would serve instead of
friends to make this poor creature happy?"

"O no, papa!"

"What was the purpose of it, then?"

"Only--to get her to like me, papa."

"What were _you_ going to do to make her happy?"

"Papa, if you lived in such a place, in such a way, wouldn't you like to
have a friend come and see you sometimes?"

"Certainly!--if you were the fri