Flora coloured and pouted. "But that makes religion——Why, I never thought religion was strict like that. Then it isn't right to buy jewels or dresses?"
"Dresses—certainly."
"But I mean, rich dresses—dresses for company. And pictures—and horses—and books—and"——
"Stop, Miss Flora. The servant himself belongs to his lord; therefore he must make of himself the very best he can. For this, books will certainly be needed, and to some degree all the other things you have named, except jewels and what you call rich dresses. The only question in each case is—'How can I do the Lord's work best? how can I spend this money to honour and please Him most?' That will not always be by the cheapest dress that can be bought, nor by checking the cultivation of taste and the acquiring of knowledge, nor even by the foregoing of arts and accomplishments. Only the question comes back at every step, and must at every step be answered—'What does the Lord want me to do here? Does He wish me to spend this money—or time—on myself, or on somebody else?'"
"Why it would be always on somebody else," said Flora looking ready to burst into tears; "and there would be no real living at all—no enjoying of life."
"A mistake," said Mr. Murray quietly. "The Lord told us long ago—'He that will save his life shall lose it; and he that loseth his life for my sake, the same shall find it.'"
Flora put up her hand over her eyes, but Meredith's eyes sparkled.
"Then you think well of my plan, Mr. Murray?" he said.
"As far as I understand it."
"How would the Pavilion do, for a skeleton of the church?"