"How nice that was!" said Daisy regretfully. "I don't think I shall ever forget about the Saxon Heptarchy, and Egbert, and Alfred."
"How about forgetting me?"
"You know I couldn't," said Daisy with a most genial smile. "O Capt.
Drummond!"—she added, as a flash of sudden thought crossed her face.
"What now, Daisy?"
The child looked at him with a most earnest, inquisitive wistful gaze.
The Captain had some difficulty to stand it.
"O Capt. Drummond," she repeated,—"are you going to be ashamed of
Christ?"
[Illustration]
The young soldier was strangely enough confused by this simple question. His embarrassment was even evident. He hesitated for a reply, and it did not readily dome. When it came, it was an evasion.
"That is right, Daisy," he said; "stand by your colours. He is a poor soldier that carries them behind his back in the face of the enemy. But whatever field you die in, I should like to be alongside of you."
He spoke gravely. And he asked no leave this time, but clasping Daisy's hand he bent down and kissed her forehead twice and earnestly; then he did not say another word, but strode away. A little flush rose on Daisy's brow, for she was a very particular little lady as to who touched her; however she listened attentively to the sound of the retreating hoofs which carried the Captain off along the road; and when Juanita at last came in with her little tray and a cup of tea, she found Daisy's face set in a very thoughtful mood and her eyes full of tears. The face did not even brighten at her approach.