Magda liked the idea, yet persisted—"I don't see, all the same, what I've got to do."
"You have to train yourself—your powers—your whole being—your character—your habits of body and mind. Don't you see? You have to get the upper hand over yourself—not to be a victim to moods—to be ready for whatever by-and-by you may be called to do."
"It isn't so easy!" she said resentfully.
"It's not easy at all. We are not put here to lounge in armchairs and to feel comfortable."
"I sometimes wonder what we are put here for."
"That is easily answered. To do the Will of God, whatever that Will may be. And one part of His loving Will for His children is that they must work—and fight—and conquer."
"If only everything wasn't so abominably humdrum! If there were any sort of a chance of doing anything worth doing!"
"There are hundreds of chances, Magda. They lie all round, in every direction. In ninety-nine cases out of a hundred, when lives are wasted, it is not the opportunity that is wanting, but the will."
"I'm sure I've got the will—if I could see what to do."
As she spoke the train came in. Rob opened a door, put in his bag, and turned for a last word.