ll eyes turned once more upon David. He was
very quiet, outwardly: he had been quietly waiting.

"Grandmamma," he said with a slight smile, "I am as good a Jew as ever
I was"--("It's a lie," put in Judy;--"unless the rest was!")--"I am as
good a Jew as ever I was, and _better_. I had studied about the
Messiah, and knew about him, and knew that he was promised--the hope of
Israel, and the King of Israel. Now I know that he has come, and I know
him; and he isn't the Messiah that I am hoping for, but"--he hesitated
and smiled again,--"the Christ I am glad for; the Hope of Israel and
the King, and so my King and my Hope. I have given myself to him to be
his servant. I believe in him--I love him--and all that I am is his."

Possibly Judy was bewildered by this speech; perhaps she was astonished
into silence; at any rate she sat still and was quiet. Norton tossed
his book over and over. Matilda was in such a tumult of delight that
she could hardly contain herself, but she made a great effort and kept
it from observation. The ladies seemed somewhat in Judy's condition. At
last Mrs. Bartholomew spoke.

"By your last words, what do you mean, David?"

"Mamma," he said, "I meant to make them quite plain. I thought it was
right to tell you all. I am the servant of the Lord Jesus Christ."

"Well, so are we all," said his mother. "What do you mean to do, that
you proclaim it so publicly?"

"Nothing, mamma; only to follow my Master."

"Follow him how?"

"In his own way--obeying his words."

"But people that talk in that way often go into extremes, and do
ridiculous things--unlike all the world. I hope that is not what you
mean, David?"

"I don't know, mamma," said the boy gravely. "I will do ridiculous
things if He command me"--and again a flicker of a smile that came like
a flicker of light passed over his face. "The first thing I thought I
had to do was to tell you all; he says his servants must confess him;
and to-morrow I will go to my uncles." The smile had faded and he was
very grave then.

"And do you know what they will say to you?"

"I suppose I know," he answered slowly.

"Is this a very new thing, David Bartholomew?"

"No, mamma. The _finishing_ of it is new; it has been growing and
preparing for a long while."

"Like you!" said his mother discontentedly. "Think and think and say
nothing,--and then come out with your mind, when nobody can change it!"

"And it's all because of her!" Judy exclaimed, starti