Daisy kneeled down by the rock and rested her forehead against it, to pray for joy.
She was there still, when June came back and stopped and looked at her, a vague expression of care sitting in her black eyes, into which now an unwonted moisture stole.

June had a basket, and as soon as Daisy sat down again, she came up and began to take things out of it.

She had brought everything for Daisy's dinner.

There was a nice piece of beefsteak, just off the gridiron; and rice and potatoes; and a fine bowl of strawberries for dessert.

June had left nothing; there was the roll and the salt, and a tumbler and a carafe of water.