"What do you think about, as you lie there all day?" he said.
The question had been put with a somewhat careless curiosity;
but at that he saw a pink flush rise and spread itself all
over Daisy's pale face; the grey eyes looked at him steadily,
with no doubt of some thoughts behind them. Dr. Sandford
listened for her answer. What was the child thinking about?
She spoke at last with that same sweet deliberateness.
"I have been thinking, Dr. Sandford, about what Jesus did for
me."
"What was that?" said the doctor, in considerable surprise.
"Because it was so hard for me to keep still to-day, I thought
— you know — how it must have been —" The flush deepened on
the cheeks, and Daisy's eyes were swimming full of tears.
Dr. Sandford looked, in much surprise; perhaps he was at some
pains to comprehend what all this meant.
"How it must have been when?" said he, bending over Daisy's
couch.
"You know, Dr. Sandford," she said, tenderly. "When He was on
the cross — and couldn't move —"
Daisy gave way. She put her hands over her face. The doctor
stood erect, looking at her; glanced his grave eyes at Mrs.
Benoit, and at her again; then made a step towards Juanita.
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