method of punishment; and if they had, Ransom's hand was certainly not
another one to inflict it.

Daisy was quite as much stung by the insult as by the unkindness; but
she felt both. She felt both so much that she was greatly discomposed.
Her watch over the feast was entirely forgotten; luckily Fido had gone
off with his master, and chickens were no longer in immediate danger.
Daisy rubbed away first one tear and then another, feeling a sort of
bitter fire hot at her heart; and then she began to be dissatisfied at
finding herself so angry. This would not do; anger was something she had
no business with; how could she carry her Lord's message, or do anything
to serve him, in such a temper? It would not do; but there it was,
offended dignity and pride, hot at her heart. Nobody would have thought
perhaps that Daisy was proud; but you never can tell what is in a
person's heart till it is tried; and then the kinds of pride are
various. It does not follow because you have none of one sort that you
have not plenty of another sort. However, finding this fire at her heart
quite too much for her to manage, Daisy went away from her
watching-place; crept away among the trees without any one's observing
her; till she had put some distance between her and the party, and found
a further shelter from them in a big moss-grown rock and large tree.
There was a bed of moss, soft and brown, on the other side of the rock;
and there Daisy fell down on her knees and began to remember--"Thou
therefore endure hardship, as a good soldier of Jesus Christ."




CHAPTER V.