"'Who is this King of glory? The Lord strong and mighty, the Lord
mighty in battle.'"
Marigold's heart swelled with an exultant feeling as she listened entranced.
Then came the question again—
"'Who is this King of glory?'"—and the triumphant reply—"'The Lord
of hosts, He is the King of glory.'"
A sob burst from Marigold's lips, and tears rushed to her eyes, her pleasure approached so near to pain.
When the service was over she followed her aunt into the sunshine again, and Miss Pamela glanced with a little surprise at her flushed cheeks and shining eyes as she inquired—
"Did you like it, Marigold?"
"Oh, it was lovely, Aunt Pamela! I never heard such singing before!"