Daisy looked troubled and puzzled, and did not answer till her father
said "Speak." Then nestling up to him with her head on his breast, a
favourite position, she said, "I got it from different sources, I think,
papa."

"Let us hear, for instance."

"I think, partly from the Bible, papa--and partly from what we were
talking of yesterday."

"I wish you would shew me where you found it in the Bible. I don't
remember a strawberry feast there."

"Do you mean it in earnest, papa?"

"Yes."

Daisy walked off for a Bible--not her own--and after some trouble found
a place which she shewed her father; and he read aloud, "When thou
makest a dinner or a supper, call not thy friends nor thy brethren,
neither thy kinsmen, nor thy rich neighbours; lest they also bid thee
again, and a recompense be made thee. But when thou makest a feast, call
the poor, the maimed, the lame, the blind; and thou shalt be blessed;
for they cannot recompense thee; for thou shalt be recompensed at the
resurrection of the just." Mr. Randolph closed the book and laid it on
the table, and drew his little daughter again within his arms.

"That child is in a way to get ruined!" said Mrs. Randolph
energetically.