"
"Where do you get them?"
"Only in the Bible, papa."
"You are a little child, Daisy; you are not quite old enough
to be able to judge properly for yourself what the rules of
that book are. While you are little and ignorant, I am your
judge, of that and everything else; and your business is to
obey me. Do you understand that?"
"But, papa."
"Well — what?"
"Papa, I am afraid you will be angry."
"I do not think I shall. You and I had better come to an
understanding about these matters Say on, Daisy."
"I was going to say, papa —"
Daisy was afraid to tell what. Mr. Randolph again stooped and
kissed her; kissed her two or three times.
"Papa, I do not _mean_ to make you angry," said the child, with
intense eagerness, — "but — suppose — papa, I mean, — are you
a servant of the Lord Jesus?"
Mr. Randolph drew back. "I endeavour to do my duty, Daisy," he
said, coldly. "I do not know what you include in the terms you
use."
"Papa, that is what I mean," said Daisy, with a very meek
face. "Papa, if I _am_, and you are _not_, then perhaps you would
not think the things that I think."
"If you are, and I am not, what?"
"_That_, papa — which I wanted you to know I am.
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