As for Flossy, it so happened that Charlie Flint, after Marion had startled and disgusted him, sought refuge with her.  She was pretty and dainty, and did not look strong-minded; not in the least as if her forte was to preach, so he made ready to have a running fire of small talk with her.

This had been Flossy’s power in conversation for several years.  He had judged her rightly there.  But do you remember with whom her morning had commenced?  Do you know that all the day thus far she had seemed to herself to be shadowed by a glorious presence, who walked steadily beside her, before her, on either hand, to shield, and help and bless?

It was very sweet to Flossy, and she was very happy; happier than she had ever been in her life.  She smiled to herself as the others chatted, she hummed in undertone the refrain of a hymn that she had caught in a near tent that morning: 

    “I am so glad that Jesus loves me.”

Wasn’t she glad!  Was there anything better to find in all this world than the assurance of this truth?  She felt that the thought was large enough to fill heaven itself.  After that, what hope was there for Charlie Flint and his small talk?  Still, he tried it, and if ever he did hard work it was during that talk.  Flossy was sweet and cheery, but preoccupied.  There was a tantalizingly pleasant smile on her face, as if her thoughts might be full of beauty, but none of them seemed to appear in her words.  She did not flush over his compliments, nor was she disturbed at his bantering.

He got out of all patience.

“I beg pardon,” he said, in his flippantly gallant way, “but I’m inclined to think you are very selfish; you are having your enjoyment all to yourself.  To judge by the face which you have worn all day your heart is bubbling over with it, and yet you think about it instead of giving me a bit.”

Flossy looked up with a shy, sweet smile that was very pleasant to see, and the first blush he had been able to call forth that day glowed on her cheeks.  Was it true? she questioned within herself.  Was she being selfish in this, her new joy?  Ought she to try to tell him about it?  Would he understand? and could she speak about such things, anyway?  She didn’t know how.  She shrank from it, and yet perhaps it would be so pleasant to him to know.  No, on the whole, she did not think it would be pleasant.  They had not talked of the meetings nor of religious matters at all; but for all that the subtle magnetism that there is about some people had told her that Charlie Flint would not sympathize in her new hopes and joys.

Well, if that were so, ought she not all the more to tell him, so that he might know that to one more person Christ had proved himself a reality, and not the spiritual fancy that he used to seem to her?  Flossy, you see, was taking long strides that first day of her Christian experience, and was reaching farther than some Christians reach who have been practicing for years.  Something told her that here was a chance of witnessing for the one who had just saved her.  She thought these thoughts much more quickly than it has taken me to write them, and then she spoke: