If Agnes had given John a lesson, she had taught herself one too. That Christmas morning was a time never to be forgotten; and to John, who had gone there hoping for a little quiet time to renew his vows, to ask afresh what his Lord would have him to do, there came a very different discipline. Instead of being a soldier buckling on his bright armour, he found himself a beaten-down combatant who was returning home wounded and sore.
But a comforting thought came to him as he knelt with his face buried in his hands; all the same for his wounds and feeling of defeat, he was fighting under the great Captain, who loved him in spite of all.
And when the text was given out his lesson came home to him, and he raised his head joyfully as his eyes sought those of his sister.
"Now unto Him that is able to keep you from falling, and to present you faultless before His presence with exceeding joy, be glory for ever. Amen."
After an instant's pause their minister began.
"I am not going to speak to the joyful this Christmas, for they do not need it so much; but I am going to speak to the downcast, that they may look forward to this exceeding joy."
Every word might have been meant for John, and he took it all humbly home to his heart. Never had his face looked like that before, and when they came out there were two people happy among the throng at anyrate.
Aunt Phyllis took Agnes's arm, while the rest lingered for a moment to shake hands with some friends.
"Agnes," said Miss Headley, "what has come to John; he looks different?"
Agnes pressed her aunt's arm, and whispered. "Don't say a word, auntie; but God has been speaking to him."