“Yes, Mr. Dinwiddie!”

He felt the breathless manner of her answer.

“What will you do, little one, when you find that to obey him, you may have a great deal of hard fighting to go through?”

“I’ll die on the field of battle, Mr. Dinwiddie.”

He looked at her a little curiously.  It was no child’s boast.  Her face was quiet, her eye steady; so had her tone been.  It was most unlike Daisy to make protestations of feeling; just now she was speaking to the one person in the world who could help her, whom in this matter she trusted; speaking to him maybe for the last time, she knew; and moreover Daisy’s heart was full.  She spoke as she might live years and not do again, when she said, “I’ll die on the field of battle.”

“That is as the Lord pleases,” returned Mr. Dinwiddie; “but how will you fight, Daisy? you are a weak little child.  The fight must be won, in the first place.”

“Please tell me, Mr. Dinwiddie.”

He sat down on a bank and drew Daisy down beside him.

“In the first place, you must remember that you are the Lord’s and that everything you have belongs to him; so that his will is the only thing to be considered in every case.  Is it so, Daisy?”

“Yes, Mr. Dinwiddie!  But tell me what you mean, by ‘everything I have.’  That is what I wanted to know.”

“I will tell you presently.  In the next place—­whenever you know the Lord’s will, don’t be afraid, but trust him to help you to do it.  He always will, he always can.  Only trust him, and don’t be afraid.”

“Yes, Mr. Dinwiddie!” Daisy said; but with a gleam on her face which even then reflected the light of those words.

“That’s all, Daisy.”

“Then Mr. Dinwiddie, please tell me what you mean by ‘everything?’”

“If you love the Lord, Daisy, you will find out.”

“But I am afraid I don’t know, Mr. Dinwiddie, what all my talents are.”

“He is a wise man that does.  But if you love the Lord Jesus with all your heart, you will find that in everything you do you can somehow please him, and that he is first to be pleased.”

They looked into each other again, those two faces, with perfect understanding; grateful content in the child’s eyes, watchful tenderness in those of Mr. Dinwiddie, through all their keenness and brightness.  Then, he rose up and offered his hand to Daisy; just said “good bye,” and was gone, he turned off another way, Daisy followed Miss Underwood’s steps.  But Joanna had got to the house long before she reached it; and Daisy thought herself very happy that nobody saw her come home alone.  She got to her own room in safety.

Daisy’s heart was full of content.  That day was the King’s, to be sure; the very air seemed to speak of the love of Jesus, and the birds and the sunshine and the honeysuckle repeated the song of “The Lamb on Calvary.”  There was no going to church a second time; after luncheon, which was Daisy’s dinner, she had the time all to herself.  She sat by her own window, or sometimes she lay down—­for Daisy was not very strong yet—­but sitting or lying and whatever she was doing, the thought that that King was hers, and that Jesus loved her, made her happy; and the hours of the day rolled away as bright as its own sunshine.