“Not that, quite, of course,—or, I don't know, either. Isn't it all different forms of the Master's work. The children of the home may have each a different task, but each is needed to make the home what it should be, and each worker needs the same spirit of love and unselfishness to enable him to do his part. It isn't a perfect illustration, Miss Dennis. I'm not skillful in that direction; but I know what I mean, and that is a comfort.”
“And I know what you mean,” Gracie said, not joining in his laugh; “but I am not sure that I believe it. Why, Mr. Ried, that would make a very solemn thing of living.”
“Well, did you suppose it was other than solemn? I'm sure it makes a triumphant thing of it, too; and without it we are only a lot of wax figures, dancing to pass the time away.”
“But don't you really think that people have a right to have any nice times?”
“Miss Dennis, did you ever see any person who had nicer times than your friend, Mrs. Roberts?”
“Well, Flossy is peculiar; her tastes all seem to lie in this direction; though once they did not, I admit. Papa used to think that she had no talent for anything but dancing. Something changed Flossy's entire character. No one who knew her two years ago could possibly deny that.”
“She will serve as an illustration, then, to explain my meaning. I believe, Miss Dennis, that religion should have sufficient power over us to change all our tastes and plans in life, fitting them to the Saviour's use.”
“But what would such a rule as that do with most of the Christians of your acquaintance?”
“Ah! I am old and experienced enough to warn you not to make shipwreck of your happiness on that shoal. I hovered around it, and vexed my soul over the whole bewildering question until I suddenly discovered that I was held absolutely responsible only for my own soul, and that the Lord would look after his own.”
For a time there was no answer to this.