d not make myself immediately ill, with my night's vigils and
sorrow, I cannot tell; unless it were that great excitement kept off
the effects of chill air and damp. However, the excitement had its own
effects, and my eyes were sadly heavy when they opened the next
morning to look at Margaret lighting my fire.

"Margaret," I said, "shut Miss Pinshon's door, will you?"

She obeyed, and then turning to look at me, exclaimed that I was not
well.

"Did you say you could not read, Margaret?" was my answer.

"Read! no, missis. Guess readin' ain't no good for servants. Seems
like Miss Daisy ain't lookin' peart this mornin'."

"Would you _like_ to read?"

"Reckon don't care about it, Miss Daisy. Where'd us get books, most
likely?"

I said I would get the books; but Margaret turned to the fire and
made me no answer. I heard her mutter some ejaculation.

"Because, Margaret, don't you know," I said, raising myself on my
elbow, "God would like to have you learn to read, so that you might
know the Bible and come to heaven."

"Reckon folks ain't a heap better that knows the Bible," said the
girl. "'Pears as if it don't make no difference. Ain't nobody good in
_this_ place, 'cept Uncle Darry."

In another minute I was out of bed and standing before the fire, my
hand on her shoulder. I told her I wanted _her_ to be good too, and
that Jesus would make her good, if she would let Him. Margaret gave me
a hasty look and then finished her fire making; but to my great
astonishment, a few minutes after, I saw that the tears were running
down the girl's face. It astonished me so much that I said no more;
and Margaret was as silent, only dressed me with the greatest
attention and tenderness.

"Ye want your breakfast bad, Miss Daisy," she remarked then in a
subdued tone; and I suppose my looks justified her words. They created
some excitement when I went downstairs. My aunt exclaimed; Miss
Pinshon inquired; Preston inveighed, at things in general. He wanted
to get me by myself, I knew, but he had no chance. Immediately after
breakfast Miss Pinshon took possession of me.

The day was less weary than the day before, only I think because I was
tired beyond impatience or nervous excitement. Not much was done; for
though I was very willing I had very little power. But the multiplication
table, Miss Pinshon said, was easy work; and at that and reading and
writing, the morning crept away. My hand was trembling, my voice was
faint, my mem