VIII.
DAISY'S NAME.
"INDADE, now, and hasn't me words come true, sir? For wasn't I afthertellin' ye she was as nate a little lady as iver stepped in two shoes?"said Betty Macarthy, as she stood with her arms akimbo, her head on oneside, and her honest face one broad glow of delight and satisfaction,gazing at the dainty-looking little creature who stood before her, heryoung face bright with as much pleasure as Betty's own.
For Daisy's old friend had come to live at Mrs. Forster's; and this wasthe way it had been brought about.
The lady had wanted a laundress; and, thinking that Betty, who had onceheld that post in her father's family, might know of one, had beggedthe General to ask her.
No sooner had he put the question than Betty eagerly answered sheshould be only too glad of the place herself; for she was tired of herpresent position, and a countrywoman of her own was ready to take itoff her hands, stock, fixtures, goodwill, and all. "For her heart wassore for the child," Betty said, and to be where she could see herevery day, and to live once more with "Miss Gertrude," would be almostas much happiness as she could wish for; and then she would try to putJack out with some gardener to learn his trade, for which he had alwayshad a turn.
So the General, having talked the matter over with his wife, andmindful of the generous care and kindness shown to their Daisy by thesepoor people, not only told Betty she should come to live with them, butalso put Jack under his own gardener, though there was really no needof any more hands about the place.
Thus did the "bread cast upon the waters" by this kind-heartedIrishwoman, come back to her, blessed sevenfold.
Nothing was told to Daisy of this arrangement till one afternoon, whenthe General had returned from the city, Mrs. Forster said to her, "I amgoing to speak to the new laundress and gardener's boy. Come with me,Daisy;" and half wondering, the little girl obeyed.
But her surprise soon changed into delight and gratitude when she sawwho the new domestics were; for, in spite of all the pleasure she feltin her new way of life, Daisy's loving little heart often longed forthe old friends who had been so good to her in her time of need, andshe wanted not only to see them, but to share some of her many comfortswith them.
So you may know how glad she was when her eye fell upon the two figuresstanding by the back door, and she knew that they had been brought tolive in the same place with her.
With an excitement very unusual in her, she flew at Betty, and,throwing both arms about her neck, covered her broad, smiling face withwarm kisses. Betty returned them with a will, holding her fast in botharms; and then, putting her from her and looking at her from head tofoot, put on an air of strong approval, and spoke to the General in thewords you have read at the beginning of this chapter.
"An' isn't it fit for a princess, she is?" she continued, quite unableto keep back her admiration and pleasure at the child's improvedappearance. "Isn't it fit for a princess she is; and Saacyfuts or noSaacyfuts, isn't it a right her own folks would have to the name ifthey found her now? Sure I'd be saacy meself to have the ownin' of achild like that. An' her not a bit spoiled, but just as lovin' andfree-like as when she had none but me an' Jack."
Then Daisy was told she might take Betty and Jack away and show themthe neat little wash-house, shaded by a fine clump of trees, with itsnice bleaching and drying ground beyond, its laundry on the firstfloor, and two small bedrooms above, where they were to sleep. Bettywas enchanted, and expressed over and over again her satisfaction atthe change in her life. It was far better, she thought, to stand at thewash-tub or ironing-table, breathing the sweet country air, with allits pleasant sights and sounds about her, than to do the same at herstall in the hot, dusty, crowded city.
As for Jack, when he saw the splendid garden, when Daisy had ledthem there, and knew it was to be his privilege to work among thoselovely flowers, he could not contain himself, but shouted and shouted,turned somersault after somersault, till recalled to himself byBetty's reminder that he must "remember that Margaret--she beggedher pardon,--Miss Daisy--was a little lady now, and he must mind hismanners before her."
But Daisy was so like her old self, so free from any pride orhaughtiness in her new position, that Jack found it hard to remembershe was any other than the little waif whom he had pitied and pettedfor so long; and his "manners" were brought to his mind with much moreforce by the sight of the gray-haired old Scotch gardener under whom hewas to work, and before whom his gambols ceased at once.
Meanwhile General and Mrs. Forster were talking on a very interestingsubject, for Betty's words about Daisy's lost friends had given thelady a new idea.
"Frank," she said to her husband, "did you notice what Betty said aboutDaisy's friends?"
"Yes," he answered. "I hope she won't turn Daisy's head and make hervain with her praise and flattery."
"I'm not afraid," said his wife. "Daisy has a right to her name, themodest, unaffected little girl; and she has too much sense to bespoiled by what she looks upon only as the overflowing of Betty'saffection. But don't you know that the Irish often say _saacy_ whenthey mean proud?"
"Oh, yes. I have often noticed it in people of Betty's class," answeredthe General; "but what has that to do with Daisy's friends?"
"Is it not possible that their name is Proudfoot or Proudfit, and that'Saacyfut' is Betty's way of calling it?"
The General laughed heartily.
"Hardly, I think," he said; "and yet--I do not know. It may be. But itnever struck me. It took a woman's wit to think of that."
"We will ask Daisy when she comes," said Mrs. Forster. "If Proudfoot_was_ their name, she must remember it when she hears it spoken, Ithink. She can hardly have forgotten it so entirely that she would notrecognize it. And then, if it should be so, it will be a help to findher friends." Mrs. Forster spoke the last words more slowly.
"Yes," said her husband, giving words to the thought which had made herhalf unwilling to utter them; "and if found, we must give up our Daisy."
"But we must not seek them the less for that," she said, "or I shallfeel as if we had found some lovely jewel that we were striving tohide from the rightful owner. I know what terrible longings must fillher mother's heart;" and a tear dropped from Mrs. Forster's eye on herbaby's face, as she clasped it more tenderly than ever in her arms.
"Daisy," said the General that evening, as the little girl stood by hisknee, "did you ever hear the name of Proudfoot?"
Daisy started, drew a quick, gasping breath, and suddenly threw herselfinto his arms.
"That is it!" she cried, in a rapid, excited manner, "that is it! Thatis my name, that is what they called papa and mamma. I never heard itsince; but I know it now. I am Daisy Proudfoot, I am, I am!"
It was some time before the child's excitement could be calmed; butthere was no farther knowledge to be gained from her. Proudfoot was hername, of that she was quite sure; and the recollection of it at thislate hour seemed to fill her with a kind of tremulous happiness; butstill she could not tell where she belonged.
Betty too, when she was asked if Proudfoot was the name of Daisy'smother, answered,--
"Sure, an' it was, ma'am. Didn't I say so all along, only she wasalways gainsayin' it?"[A]
The matter was settled; and General Forster, loath as he was to partwith Daisy, feeling that he must leave no stone unturned to trace herfriends, again put advertisements in the papers, saying, that if anyfamily of the name of Proudfoot had had a child supposed to be lost atsea, they might hear of her at such and such a place.
Daisy was not told of this; she was contented and happy in her new homeand among her new friends, and it was not thought best to disturb hermind with fresh hopes of finding those who might never come to claimher.
But although she was still called Daisy Forster by all in Glenwood, itwas a satisfaction to herself and to the kind friends who had taken herup and cared for her, to know the name which rightly belonged to her.
However, days and weeks and months went by, and still no one came toseek the
Daisy blossom which had been transplanted to such pleasantsoil. And there it grew and flourished, and did its Master's work;proving how much even such a simple floweret can do by its own modestexample and teaching to win others to honor Him.
It was surprising to see how much her schoolmates thought of heropinion; how they profited by the simple lesson she had taught them,and tried to break themselves of the foolish and sinful habit intowhich nearly all of them had fallen, of using sacred names and thingsin such a heedless, unthinking manner.
It was not only the very little girls, but the older ones also, andeven Miss Collins herself, who learned from our Daisy to set a watchupon their lips, and to remember whose ear was ever present, hearingeach thoughtless word which dishonored Him or that which especiallybelonged to Him.
Perhaps they gave more heed to Daisy's words than they would havedone to those of any other one of their number. There was such ahalf-mystery about her, and their thoughts were so tender towards her,that they checked their heedless speech for her sake at first; then, asthey learned to think more about it, for a better and higher reason,till at last the bad habit was broken up; and if, by chance, such aword as "mercy," "heavens," "good Lord," or the like, came from thelips of any child, the surprised and reproving looks of her companionstold her of her fault, and punished her sufficiently.
And the good influence spread far and wide. Since the little ones wereso careful, their parents and older friends felt that they, too, musttake heed lest they offended in this way; and so it came to pass thatamong the families of Glenwood God's name and word came to be held insuch true reverence and honor as had never been before.
And so nearly a year passed by, and brought the Daisy and hersister-flowerets to another spring.
FOOTNOTE:
[A] If this is considered far-fetched, the writer can only say thatBetty's rendering of the name of Proudfoot was actually given by adomestic in her own family, and occasioned considerable bewilderment,till the quick wit of one of its members solved the riddle.
THE LOST FOUND.