“’Die in the field of battle,
    Die in the field of battle,
    Die in the field of battle,
      Glory in your view!’”

“Miss Daisy—­I wouldn’t sing that in the house,” June ventured.  For the child’s voice, clear and full, raised the sweet notes to a pitch that might have been heard at least through several of the large rooms.  Daisy hushed her song.

The trout was to be for breakfast, and Daisy when she was quite ready went gaily down to see if it would be approved.  Her father was engaged to eat it all, and he held to his promise; only allowing Daisy herself to share with him; and on the whole Daisy and he had a very gay breakfast.

“It is too hot to do anything,” said Mrs. Randolph, as the trout was very nearly reduced to a skeleton.  “I shall not go to church this morning.”

A shade passed over Daisy’s face, but she did not look towards her mother.

“If you do not, I can’t see why I should,” said Mr. Randolph.  “The burden of setting a good example lies upon you.”

“Why?” said his wife quickly.

“Nobody will know whether I am there or not.”

“Nobody will know that I am there at any rate,” the lady rejoined.  “The heat will be insufferable.”  Mrs. Gary declared herself of the same opinion.

An hour after Daisy came into her mother’s room.

“Mamma, may I go to church with Joanna?”

“It’s too hot, Daisy.”

“No, mamma—­I don’t mind it.  I would like to go.”

“Children don’t mind anything!  Please yourself.  But how are you going?”

“On foot, mamma; under the shade of the trees.  It is nice and shady, all the way.”

“It is enough to kill you!  But go.”

So Daisy’s great flat set off alongside of Miss Underwood’s Sunday gown to walk to church.  They set out all right, on the way to the church by the evergreens.  Preston Gary was a good deal surprised to find them some time later in another part of the grounds and going in a different direction.

“Where are you bound, Daisy?” he asked.

“To church, Preston.”

“Church is the other way.”

“Yes, but Mr. Pyne is sick and the church is closed, and we are going over to that little church on the other side of the road.”

“Why that is a dissenting chapel, isn’t it?”

“There’s no more dissent amongst ’em than there is among other folks!” broke in Miss Underwood with a good deal of expression.  “I wish all other folks and churches was as peaceable and kept as close to their business!  Anyhow, it’s a church, and the other one won’t let us in.”

Preston smiled and stepped back, and to Daisy’s satisfaction they met with no further stay.  They got to the little church and took their places in the very front; that place was empty, and Joanna said it was the only one that she could see.  The house was full.  It was a plain little church, very neat, but very plain compared with what Daisy was accustomed to.  So were the people.  These were not rich people, not any of them, she thought.  At least there were no costly bonnets nor exquisite lace shawls nor embroidered muslin dresses among them; and many persons that she saw looked absolutely poor.  Daisy however did not see this at first; for the service began almost as soon as they entered.