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." "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."