Herbert saw it. "Don't be troubled about me, mamma dear," he said, putting his arms round her neck and gazing lovingly into her eyes. "I do mean to fight against my natural laziness. But do you think I ought to choose so very hard a life as Harold means to?"
"Not if you have talent for something useful which would better suit your inclinations. Can you think of any such thing?"
"Couldn't I be a lawyer?"
"You could never rise to eminence in that profession without a great deal of hard work."
"An author then?"
"The same answer will fit again," his mother returned with a slight smile. "Has not your Cousin Molly worked very hard for a number of years?"
Herbert drew a long, deep sigh, then brightening, "I might be a publisher," he said. "I don't suppose they work very hard, and they can have all the new books to read."
"Oh, Herbie," said Violet, "think of the great number of letters they must have to write, and manuscripts to read, beside many other things."
"No, my boy, you cannot do or be anything worth while without work, and a good deal of it," said his mother. "So I hope you will make it your earnest, constant prayer that you may have grace to overcome your besetting sin of indolence, and to 'be not slothful in business; fervent in spirit; serving the Lord'. The Bible bids us, 'Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it with thy might. Whatsoever ye do, do it heartily, as to the Lord, and not unto men.'"
"Edward, you have not told us yet what you wish to be," said his sister Elsie.