‘Do you call it honourable?’
‘Oh yes, to be sure. I put it next to a clergyman’s or a doctor’s life.’
‘Not a soldier’s?’
‘That depends,’ said Kalliope.
‘On the service he is sent upon, you mean? But that is his sovereign’s look-out. He “only has to obey, to do or die.”’
‘Yes, it is the putting away of self, and possible peril of life, that makes all those grandest,’ said Kalliope, ‘and I think the schoolmaster is next in opportunities of doing good.’
Gillian could not help thinking that none of all these could put away self more entirely than the girl beside her, toiling away her beauty and her youth in this dull round of toil, not able to exercise the instincts of her art to the utmost, and with no change from the monotonous round of mosaics, which were forced to be second rate, to the commonest household works, and the company of the Queen of the White Ants.
Gillian perceived enough of the nobleness of such a life to fill her with a certain enthusiasm, and make her feel a day blank and uninteresting if she could not make her way to the little office.
One evening, towards the end of the first fortnight, Alexis himself came in with a passage that he wanted to have explained. His sister looked uneasy all the time, and hurried to put on her hat, and stand demonstratively waiting, telling Gillian that they must go, the moment the lesson began to tend to discursive talk, and making a most decided sign of prohibition to her brother when he showed a disposition to accompany them.
‘I think you are frightfully particular, Kally,’ said Gillian, when they were on their way up the hill. ‘Such an old friend, and you there, too.’