Phil's face had softened at her last words.
"I won't promise, Miss Bess, for then I should have to, anyway, and I'm not sure yet, till I think it all over. I'll tell you to-morrow."
Bess patted his shoulder approvingly, for this was a concession at least. Then she went on, after a little pause,—
"Phil, dear, ever so long ago, Fred and I took for our motto a verse from your All Saints' Hymn,—'Oh, may thy soldiers,' and we are trying to win our 'victor's crown.' Why not take it for your motto, too? You boys all have a good deal of the stuff that makes heroes and fighters. Just now you are forgetting that a soldier's first duty is to obey his superior officer, and that any disobedience, even a slight one, may ruin the whole campaign. Will this small soldier join our company, and fight with us, 'faithful, true, and bold'?"
"Ye-es, I s'pose so."
"Even when you remember that your first step must be to yield your idea of right to your father's?"
"Ye-e-es."
It was a long-drawn yes, and it told of a whole battle, and a victory. As Bessie bent over the boy for a moment, she saw that the lashes over the gray eyes were a little damp, and the lips were quivering. But there was no time for Phil to have so much as a tear, for just then the door opened and Ted rushed in, capering like a mad creature, while Fred stood beaming in the doorway.
"Why, Ted, what is the matter?" exclaimed Bess in wonder, as Ted rushed up to Phil, shook both hands furiously, and then backed out into the middle of the room, where he executed a sort of clog-dance, to the rage of Fuzz, who barked himself hoarse, from the shelter of his basket, whither he had retired for safety.
"Jack Bradley fired that marble!" said Ted, interrupting his antics for a moment, and then resuming them again more vehemently than ever, while Fuzz leaped from his basket and rushed distractedly this way and that, adding his voice to the general confusion.