'He said our Lord died doing the will of his Father. I told him—“Yes, when his time was come, not sooner. Besides, he often avoided both speech and action.” “Yes,” he answered, “but he could tell when, and we cannot.” “Therefore,” I rejoined, “you ought to accept your exhaustion as a token that your absence will be the best thing for your people. If there were no God, then perhaps you ought to work till you drop down dead—I don't know.”'
'Is he gone yet?'
'No. He won't go. I couldn't persuade him.'
'When do you go?'
'To-morrow.'
'I shall be ready, if you really mean it.'
'That's an if worthy only of a courtier. There may be much virtue in an if, as Touchstone says, for the taking up of a quarrel; but that if is bad enough to breed one,' said Falconer, laughing. 'Be at the Paddington Station at noon to-morrow. To tell the whole truth, I want you to help me with my father.'
This last was said at the door as he showed me out.
In the afternoon we were nearing Bristol. It was a lovely day in October. Andrew had been enjoying himself; but it was evidently rather the pleasure of travelling in a first-class carriage like a gentleman than any delight in the beauty of heaven and earth. The country was in the rich sombre dress of decay.
'Is it not remarkable,' said my friend to me, 'that the older I grow, I find autumn affecting me the more like spring?'