"That's the coat of mail, 'loins girt about with truth.' Florence, what would you like?" "I don't remember the meanings exactly," answered Florence shyly, "but I like the helmet. What is it, Agnes?" "'The hope of salvation,' joy now and always; do you like that, Florence?" A very soft little "That will do for me!" came up from a very faithful little heart. "Now, Minnie?" "Might I have the shield? 'The shield of Faith.' But there'll be nothing nice left for you, Aggie!" "The very thing is left for her that is most suitable!" exclaimed Alice warmly. "Her 'feet shod with the preparation of the Gospel of peace.' Agnes is a thorough peacemaker, and she loves to tell people about the Gospel of peace, too." "So I do; but not half as I ought," answered Agnes, lifting down the pieces of armour and handing each to the various possessors. "They will serve as reminders, 'with a vengeance,'" said Hugh. "Where shall we put them?" "I mean to hang mine up at home over my mantelshelf," said Agnes. "It will be quite an ornament, and if—" "Yes," said John, taking up the word. "If we think of them, and by and by take unto us the whole armour of God—" "Agnes' kindness and thought for us will not be in vain," added Alice, kissing her warmly. "To-morrow," said Agnes, "we will have some more talk about our different pieces of armour, for it will be easier to us to use what God has provided, if we can understand the sorts of weapons which will be used against us." "Oh! Tell us now, Aggie," exclaimed her little sister. "Not to-night; let us go downstairs now, and try to make the evening bright to uncle Hugh." The young people carried their armour to their respective rooms, placing it in full view on chests of drawers, bureaus, &c., each touched with Agnes' unselfishness, which had caused her, in that house full of treasures to choose something which she meant but to receive and then to give away. When they reached the drawing-room, their uncle met them at the door with an unusually bright look on his face. "Agnes," he said, leading her up to an easel, which stood under the chandelier in the middle of the room, "I have looked out another little treasure for you, in remembrance of your knight! I felt, after what we talked about yesterday, that it ought to belong to no one else." When Agnes reached the easel, what was her surprise to see a beautiful oil painting of a soldier, clad in armour, kneeling before his sovereign, receiving from his hands the victor's laurels and rewards! His face, patient with many a hardship, holy with many a self-denial, earnest with many a purpose, radiant with many a victory, his face touched the hearts of the lookers on, all fresh from Agnes' earnest words, and a silent sort of awe fell upon them, as they thought of what they had undertaken, and of what the end would be. Their uncle's voice, gentle and solemn, broke the pause—