now when she knows she is going to die, she is happy still, and
quite calm and bright. I should like--oh, I should like to be good like
that! One can't always be young, and pretty, and happy, and strong; and
if I am going to be a Christian at all, I want to begin now, and not
wait until the troubles begin. That would feel mean! I wouldn't treat
any one on earth like that--ignore him altogether so long as everything
went well, and fly to him for help the moment I was in difficulties...
That awful night when Arthur told us that the doctors would not pass him
for the Army, Mrs Asplin said that there were more ways than one of
being a soldier, and I knew what she meant. `A soldier of Christ!' _I_
could be that as well as Arthur, and I have been longing to fight all my
life... How does it go? ...

"`Soldiers of Christ arise,
And put your armour on,
Strong in the strength which God supplies
Through His Eternal Son!'

"Oh, what a glorious army! What an honour to belong to it! I'm only a
poor little recruit, but if Christ would train me--"

Peggy's heart swelled with longing, and she clasped her hands nervously
together. It was a great moment, and her wonted self-confidence failed
her on this threshold of another life. The downcast fame grew so
anxious and troubled that Mrs Asplin became distressed at the sight,
and, as usual, took the blame upon herself.

"Dear child," she said fondly, "I'm afraid I have oppressed you with the
weight of my burdens. It seems a strange thing that I should have
chosen a young thing like you as _confidante_, but at the time my
thoughts seemed to turn naturally to you. If Esther had known how weak
I was, she would have felt it her duty to give up her situation and come
home, and I was most unwilling to interfere with what I then believed to
be her life's work. Mellicent would have been quite overwhelmed, poor
child; and as for my boy, he would have worried himself to death, when
he needs all his courage to help him through these years of waiting.
But you were here, almost like a second daughter, and yet living so much
apart that you would not be constantly shadowed by the remembrance, and
so it came to pass that to you, dear, I opened my heart. You have been
all sweetness and consideration, and for my own sake I have no regrets,
but I shall be miserable if I see you depressed. No more sighs, Peggy,
_please_! I tell you honestly, dear, that I am better in health than I