Yet down there, through the still
moonlight, she remembered His eye could see her, and she knew
He had not forgotten His little child. Daisy never heard her
door open; but it did once, and some time after it did again.
"I do not know what to do —" said Mrs. Sandford, downstairs.
There the lamps made a second bright day; and the two
gentlemen were busy over the table with newspapers and books.
Both of them looked up, at the sound of her perplexed voice.
"That child, —" said Mrs. Sandford. "She is not in bed yet."
The lady stood by the table; she had just come from Daisy's
room.
"What is she doing?" her husband asked.
"I don't know. She is kneeling by the open window. She was
there an hour ago, and she is there yet. She has not moved
since."
"She has fallen asleep —" suggested Mr. Sandford. "I should
say, wake her up."
"She is too wide awake now. She is lifting her little face to
the sky, in a way that breaks my heart. And there she has
been, this hour and more."
"Have some supper directly, and call her down, —" was the
second suggestion of the master of the house. "It will be
supper-time soon. Here — it's some time after nine."
"Grant, what is the matter with Mr.
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