it; until his marvelling was increased by its turning out of Melbourne grounds and taking a course up the road again.  Towards the same place!  On went Daisy, much too fast for the watering pot; till the cripple’s cottage came in sight a second time.  There, just at the foot of the little rise in the road which led up to the cottage gate, Loupe suddenly fell to very slow going.  The watering pot went easily enough for several yards; and then Loupe stopped.  What was the matter?

Something was the matter, yet Daisy did not summon Lewis.  She sat quite still, looking before her up to the cottage, with a thoughtful, puzzled, troubled face.  The matter was, that just there and not before, the remembrance of her mother’s command had flashed on her—­that she should have nothing to do with any stranger out of the house unless she had first got leave.  Daisy was stopped short.  Get leave?  She would never get leave to speak again to that poor crabbed, crippled, forlorn creature; and who else would take up the endeavour to be kind to her?  Who else would even try to win her to a knowledge of the Bible and Bible joys? and how would that poor ignorant mortal ever get out of the darkness into the light?  Daisy did not know how to give her up; yet she could not go on.  The sweet rose on the top of her little rose tree mocked her, with kindness undone and good not attempted.  Daisy sat still, confounded at this new barrier her mother’s will had put in her way.

Wheels came rapidly coursing along the road in front of her, and in a moment Dr. Sandford’s gig had whirled past the cottage and bore down the hill.  But recognizing the pony chaise in the road, he too came to a stop as sudden as Daisy’s had been.  The two were close beside each other.

“Where away, Daisy?”

“I do not understand, Dr. Sandford.”

“Where are you going? or rather, why are you standing still here?”

“Because I was in doubt what to do.”

“Did the doubt take you here, in the middle of the road?”

“Yes, Dr. Sandford.”

“What is it, Daisy?  To whom are you carrying a rose bush?”

“I am afraid—­nobody.”

“What is the matter—­or the doubt?”

“It is a question of duty, Dr. Sandford.”

“Then I will decide it for you.  Go on and do what you wish to do.  That will be right.”

“O no, sir,” said Daisy, smiling at her adviser—­“that is just what would be wrong.  I cannot.”

“Cannot what?”

“Do that, sir; do what I wish to do.”  And Daisy sighed withal.

“What do you wish to do?”

The doctor was quite serious and as usual a little imperative in his questions, and Daisy knew him to be trusted.

“I wanted to take this little rose bush and set it out in the garden up there.”

“There?? do you mean the garden of that cottage?” said the doctor pointing with his whip.

“Yes, sir.”