the people who had them not. She was too tired to pray at last; she only
knelt at the window with her arms on the sill, (Daisy was raised up on
an ottoman) and looked out at the moonlight, feeling as if she was going
into a dream.

"Miss Daisy!"--said the smothered voice of June behind her--"are you
there, Miss Daisy?"

June's accent was doubtful and startled. Daisy turned round.

"Miss Daisy!--I thought you was in the supper-room."

"No, June--I'm here."

"Will you go to bed, Miss Daisy?"

"I wish, June, you would get me something to eat, first," said Daisy
languidly.

"Didn't you get your supper, Miss Daisy?"

"No, and I'm hungry. I haven't had anything since the dinner at the
lake. I wish you'd make haste, June."

June knew from Daisy's way of speaking, as well as from the facts of the
case, that there was some trouble on foot. She went off to get supper,
and as she went along the passages the mulatto woman's hand was clenched
upon itself, though her face shewed only its usual wrinkles.

Small delay was there before she was back again, and with her June had