“But that is not to be the end! His soldier and servant! There is nothing in all the world to be compared with that! Have you offered yourself to Him? Will you not offer yourself to Him? Oh, Philip! there is nothing else.”
“Davie,” said Philip, hoarsely, “you don’t begin to know what a bad fellow I have been.”
“No; nor do you. But He knows, and the worse you are the more you need to come to Him. Have you never asked Him to forgive you and take you for His own? It is for Him to do it. Ask Him now!”
David threw his arms round the neck of his friend. It was a sudden act, boyish and impulsive—not at all like David. Philip was much moved.
“Ask Him, Davie,” said he, huskily.
Kneeling beside him on the stone, David did ask Him, using simple words and few—such words as Philip never forgot—words that he uttered in his own heart many a time afterwards, and not in vain.
They lingered a good while, but there was not much said between them after that, and when David went into the house, where his mother and Violet were waiting for him, he told them that Philip had gone home. By and by he said:
“The story Jem heard was true, mamma. Mr Caldwell wants Philip to become his partner in a new business. It seems he has saved something, and he is willing to put his capital against Philip’s youth and energy and business talents. It will be very good for Philip and for Mr Caldwell too.”
“It shows great confidence on Mr Caldwell’s part,” said Mrs Inglis.
“Yes; but, mamma, you said it as if you were surprised, as if his confidence might be misplaced.”