And if Daisy was engaged with her
subject, so certainly was Molly. She did not stir hand or
foot; she sat listening movelessly to the story, which came
with such loving truthfulness from the lips of her childish
teacher. A teacher exactly fitted, however, to the scholar;
Molly's poor closed-up mind could best receive any truth in
the way a child's mind would offer it; but in this truth, the
undoubting utterance of Daisy's love and belief won entrance
for her words where another utterance might not. Faith is
always catching.
So Daisy told the wonderful story, and displayed the power and
love and tenderness of the Lord with the affection of one who
knew Him _her_ Lord, and almost with the zeal of an eye-witness
of his work. It was almost to Daisy so; it seemed to her that
she had beheld and heard the things she was telling over; for
faith is the substance of things not seen; and the grief of
the sisters, and their joy, and the love and tenderness of the
Lord Jesus, were all to her not less real than they were to
the actors in that far distant drama. Molly heard her
throughout, with open mouth and marvelling eyes.
Neither of them had changed her position, and indeed Daisy had
scarce finished talking, when she heard herself hailed from
the road.
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