and opened Mr. Dinwiddie's Bible. Her heart was not at all comforted
yet; and indeed her talk with Dr. Sandford had rather roused her to
keener discomfort. She had confessed herself wrong, and had told him the
way to get right; yet she herself, in spite of knowing the way, was not
right, but very far from it. So she felt. Her heart was very sore for
the hurt she had suffered; it gave her a twinge every time she thought
of the lotus carving of her spoon handle, and those odd representations
of fish in the bowl of it. She lay over on her pillow, slowly turning
and turning the pages of her Bible, and tear after tear slowly gathering
one after another, and filling her eyes and rolling down to her pillow
to make another wet spot. There was no harm in that, if that had been
all. Daisy had reason. But what troubled her was, that she was so
strongly displeased with her aunt Gary. She did not want to see her or
hear her, and the thought of a kiss from her was unendurable. Nay, Daisy
felt as if she would like to punish her, if she could; or at least to
repossess herself of her stolen property by fair means or by foul. She
was almost inclined to think that she must have it at all events. And at
the same time, she had told Dr. Sandford that she was not right. So
Daisy lay slowly turning the pages of her Bible, looking for some word
that might catch her eye and be a help to her. There were a good many
marks in the Bible, scattered here and there, made by its former owner.
One of these stopped Daisy's search, and gave her something to think of.
It stood opposite these words:

"I, therefore, the prisoner of the Lord, beseech you that ye walk worthy
of the vocation wherewith ye are called."

Daisy considered that. What "vocation" meant, she did not know, nor who
was "the prisoner of the Lord," nor what that could mean; but yet she
caught at something of the sense. "Walk worthy," she understood that;