e."

"You don't use the word right," remarked Miss Macy. "A _sample_ is
taken from what is,--not from what ought to be."

"I don't care," was St. Clair's reply.

"I did not behave like a Christian last night," I forced myself to
say. "I was impatient."

"Like an impatient Christian then, I suppose," said St Clair.

I felt myself getting impatient again, with all my sorrow and
humiliation of heart. And yet more humbled at the consciousness, I
hastened to get out of the room. It was a miserable day, that day of
my first school triumphs, and so were several more that followed. I
was very busy; I had no time for recollection and prayer; I was in the
midst of gratulations and plaudits from my companions and the
teachers; and I missed, O how I missed the praise of God. I felt like
a traitor. In the heat of the fight I had let my colours come to the
ground. I had dishonoured my Captain. Some would say it was a little
thing; but I felt then and I know now, there are no little things; I
knew I had done harm; how much it was utterly beyond my reach to know.

As soon as I could I seized an opportunity to get to Miss Cardigan. I
found her among her flowers, nipping off here a leaf and there a
flower that had passed its time; so busy, that for a few moments she
did not see that I was different from usual. Then came the question
which I had been looking for.

"Daisy, you are not right to-day?"

"I haven't been right since I got that standish," I burst forth.

Miss Cardigan looked at me again, and then did what I had not
expected; she took my head between her two hands and kissed me. Not
loosing her hold, she looked into my face.

"What is it, my pet?"

"Miss Cardigan," I said, "can any one be a Christian and yet--yet--"

"Do something unworthy a Christian?" she said. "I wot well they can!
But then, they are weak Christians."

I knew that before. But somehow, hearing her say it brought the shame
and the sorrow more fresh to the surface. The tears came. Miss
Cardigan pulled me into the next room and sat down, drawing me into
her arms; and I wept there with her arms about me.

"What then, Daisy?" she asked at length, as if the suspense pained
her.

"I acted so, Miss Cardigan," I said; and I told her all about it.

"So the devil has found a weak spot in your armour," she said. "You
must guard it well, Daisy."

"How can I?"

"How can you? Keep your shield before it, my bairn. What is your
shield for? The Lord has g