Mr. Dinwiddie had spoken about the service and the purpose of it; he explained how the servants of Christ at his command take the bread and wine in remembrance of him and what he has done for them; and as a sign to all the world that they believe in him and love him, and wait for him to come again.  Now some prayers were made, and there were spoken some grave words of counsel and warning, which sounded sweet and awful in Daisy’s ears; and then the people came forward, a part of them, and knelt around a low railing which was before the pulpit.  As they did this, some voices began to sing a hymn, in a wonderfully sweet and touching music.  Daisy was exceedingly fond of every melody and harmony that was worthy the name; and this—­plaintive, slow, simple—­seemed to go not only through her ears, but down to the very bottom of her heart.  They sang but a verse and a chorus; and then after an interval, when those around the railings rose and gave place to others, they sang a verse and a chorus again; and this is the chorus that they sang.  It dwelt in Daisy’s heart for many a day; but I can never tell you the sweetness of it.

  “O the Lamb! the loving Lamb! 
     The Lamb on Calvary;
   The Lamb that was slain, but lives again,
     To intercede for me.”

It seemed to Daisy a sort of paradise while they were singing.  Again and again after a pause the notes measuredly rose and fell; and little Daisy who could take no other open part in what was going on, responded to them with her tears.  Nobody was looking, she thought; nobody would see.

At last it was all done; the last verses were sung; the last prayers spoken; the little crowd turned to go.  Daisy standing behind Joanna in the front place was obliged to wait till the aisle was clear.  She had turned too when everybody else did, and so was standing with her back to the pulpit, when a hand was laid on her shoulder.  The next minute Daisy’s little fingers were in Mr. Dinwiddie’s clasp, and her face was looking joyfully into his.

“Daisy—­I am glad to see you.”

Another look, and a slight clasp of her little fingers, answered him.

“I wish you had been with us just now.”

“I am too little—­” was Daisy’s humble and regretful reply.

“Nobody is too little, who is old enough to know what Jesus has done and to love him for it, and to be his servant.  Do you love him, Daisy?”

“Yes, Mr. Dinwiddie.”

A very soft but a very clear answer; and so was the answer of the eyes raised to his.  To Daisy’s great joy, he did not let go her hand when they got out of the church.  Instead of that, keeping it fast, he allowed Miss Underwood to go on a little before them, and then he lingered with Daisy along the shady, overarched walks of Melbourne grounds, into which they presently turned.  Mr. Dinwiddie lingered purposely, and let Joanna get out of hearing.  Then he spoke again.

“If you love Jesus, you want to obey him, Daisy.”