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.