Teddy smiled contentedly.
'Now,' added Mr. Upton, 'I am going to send you home. If you enlist, the first person you will have to hold up your banner to is that little girl whom you said you hated. Before you go I want to pray for you. Kneel down with me.'
The evening sunshine streamed in through the open window, and alighting on the white hair of the minister and the boy's fair curls, as they knelt together, bathed them in a golden glory. With closed eyes and folded hands Teddy listened to Mr. Upton's prayer,—
'Loving Father, another lamb I bring to Thee. Guide him in his decision, and if he enters Thy fold, use him and bless him through all eternity. Grant that he may fight a good fight, and be crowned with glory hereafter. For Jesus Christ's sake. Amen.'
An hour later, and Teddy was seated by his mother's side in the old porch. His grandmother and uncle had gone to evening church, and Mrs. John was left with her boy alone.
He had been telling her the substance of his conversation with the rector, and now curled up on the low wooden seat, his small legs crossed underneath him, he was gazing dreamily out into the sweet-scented garden. The bees were droning, and the gnats humming amongst the tall hollyhocks and crimson and white roses close by; the birds were already twittering their last 'good-nights' to one another, and a soft, peaceful spell seemed to be falling on all around.
'I feel,' he said presently, as he gazed up into the still blue sky, 'as if God is waiting for me, mother.'
Mrs. John did not answer. He added quickly, 'When did you enlist, mother; long, long ago?'
'Yes, darling, just before I married your father.'
'And when did father enlist? When he was a little boy like me?'