"In administering to others, in accomplishing one's work in the world."
"How to discover what one's work really is?" I mused.
"That is not difficult, if one's nature is not wedded to sloth."
"And where," I continued, "supposing it to be discovered, should it be properly performed?"
"In one's native land," she said. "He belongs to it, and it to him."
"There have been missionaries who have done great good."
"They could have done as much, perhaps more, if they had devoted themselves to the kindred which was closest to them."
"Not that I have a desire to become a missionary," I said. "I have not within me the spirit of self-sacrifice. I have been travelling for pleasure."
"It is right," she said, quickly, "it is good. Do not think I mean to reproach you. Had I a son, and could afford it, I would bid him travel for a year or two before he settled down to serious labour."
"It was my good fortune that I resolved to see the world, for it has brought me to this happy home."