'But it is in the sight of the world,' retorted Captain Knox; 'that is, if your religion in an aggressive one.'
'Well, of course it ought not to be aggressive,' said Gwen briskly. 'Religion is a matter to be lived, not talked about. It only concerns oneself, and no one else.'
'That is a very selfish creed,' said Agatha. 'If you possess something good, you ought to wish to pass it on.'
'But not to thrust it on people who don't want it. I am thirsty, and like a glass of water, but need I insist upon your drinking it, when you are not thirsty at all?'
'Gwen loves an argument,' said Captain Knox good-naturedly.
'I am not good at arguing,' said Agatha, 'only, knowing that thirst can be a blessing, I think we should try to make people thirsty.'
'How do you mean?' asked Clare with interest, 'thirst is not, generally, a very happy experience.'
'Doesn't it say, "Blessed are they who hunger and thirst after righteousness, for they shall be filled"?'
'Oh, come, Agatha, we don't want a sermon with our dinner. You are not given to preach, so don't be trying to show us that you know how to be aggressive.'
Gwen's tone was a little scornful, and Agatha said no more; but as Clare was pacing up and down in the verandah with Captain Knox, a little time after, she suddenly said, 'I think I am a thirsty person, Hugh, only I never can tell what it is I am thirsting for; tell me, are you perfectly satisfied with yourself and with life?'