But everybody waited in vain to hear the answer. It did not come.

"I shall not ask you again, Daisy."

"Mamma," said the child low and modestly, but with steadiness,--"I was
praying."

"Praying! were you! Why do you choose that particular time for your
private devotions?"

It was almost too much. The tears started in Daisy's eyes; but presently
she answered,--"Because God is good to us, mamma."

"He is always good," said Mrs. Randolph. "That is a very silly practice
of yours, Daisy, and very unbecoming. There is a proper way of doing
everything."

The lady's manner said that the subject was dismissed, and her guests
returned to their ordinary conversation. Except the doctor and Daisy.
She was overwhelmed, and he was gravely unsocial.

Was it silly?--that bound her heart had made up to the feet of her King?
That joyful thanksgiving, and expression of love, and pledge of
obedience, and prayer for help? It was something better than the meal
often to Daisy; something sweeter and happier. Was it silly? and must
she do so no more except when she was alone?

Daisy had quite forgotten that eating and drinking was part of the
present matter in hand, when Dr. Sandford softly asked her what she