That day was the beginning of a new life to her. Thenceforth there must
be no more repining; no more idle, listless days, no more wishing for
something to do. There was work all around her, and she found it and did
it with a will--first, from a sense of duty, and at last for the real
pleasure it afforded her to carry joy and gladness to the homes where
want and sorrow had sat so long.
Hearing that there were sickness and destitution among the miners in
Peru, where her possessions were, she went early in November, and many a
wretched heart rejoiced because of her, and many a lip blessed the
beautiful lady whose coming among them was productive of so much good.
Better dwellings, better wages, a church, a schoolhouse followed in her
footsteps, and then, when everything there seemed in good working order,
there came over her a longing for her native country, and the next
autumn found her in New York, where in a short space of time everybody
knew of the beautiful Miss McDonald, who was a millionaire and who owned
the fine house and grounds in the upper part of the city not far from
the Park.
Here society claimed her again, and Daisy, who had no morbid fancies
now, yielded in part to its claims and became, if not a belle, a
favorite, whose praises were in every mouth. But chiefly was she known
and loved by the poor and the despised whom she daily visited, and to
whom her presence was like the presence of an angel.
"You do look lovely and sing so sweet; I know there's nothing nicer in
heaven," said a little piece of deformity to her one day as it lay
dying in her arms. "I'se goin' to heaven, which I shouldn't have done if
you'se hadn't gin me the nice bun and told me of Jesus. I loves him now,
and I'll tell him how you bringed me to him."
Such was the testimony of one dying child, and it was dearer to Daisy
than all the words of flattery ever poured into her ear. As she had
brought that little child to God, so she would bring others, and she
made her work among the children especially, finding there her best
encouragement and greatest success.
Once when Guy Thornton chanced to be in the city and driving in the
Park, he saw a singular sight--a pair of splendid bays arching their
graceful necks proudly, their silver-tipped harness flashing in the
sunlight, and their beautiful mistress radiant with happiness as she sat
in her large open carriage, not in the midst of gayly dressed friends,
but amid a group of poorly clad, pale-faced little ones, to whom the
Park was a paradise, and she was the presiding angel.