"
June got the key and rummaged. "Don't feel nothing, Miss
Daisy."
"Quite back, June, under everything."
"Why, Miss Daisy, it's tucked away as though you didn't mean
nobody should never find it!"
Precisely what Daisy did mean. But there it was, safe enough —
Mr. Dinwiddie's Bible. Daisy's hands and eyes welcomed it. She
asked for nothing more in a good while after that; and June
curiously watched her, with immense reverence. The thin pale
little face, a little turned from the light, so that she could
see better; the intent eyes; the wise little mouth, where
childish innocence and oldish prudence made a queer meeting;
the slim little fingers that held the book; above all, the
sweet calm of the face. June would not gaze, but she looked
and looked, as she could, by glances; and nearly worshipped
her little mistress in her heart. She thought it almost
ominous and awful to see a child read the Bible so. For Daisy
looked at it with loving eyes, as at words that were a
pleasure to her. It was no duty-work, that reading. At last
Daisy shut the book, to June's relief.
"June, I want to see my old things. I would like to have them
here on the bed."
"What things, Miss Daisy?"
"I would like my bird of paradise first.
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