"I never will again. A gentleman should be a free man; and wine makes men slaves. I don't choose to be in bondage. And if it would not enslave me, it does other people; and I would not give it the help of my example."
Fenton dropped the subject, but renewed his proposal that they should return home. So shawls and worsted work were stored in the cart, and the little book in Meredith's pocket; and the line of march was taken up. It was indeed coming now to the lovely time of the day. Shadows long, lights glowing in warm level reflections, all objects getting a sunny side and a shady side, and standing forth in new beauty in consequence; the day gathering in its train, as it were, to prepare for a stately leave-taking by and by. Meredith and Maggie, loath to go, lingered the last of the party; indeed he had the cart to draw, which was heavy, and needed careful guiding in places over and between the rocks; and he could not run on with the heads of the party. And Maggie walked beside him, and put her little hand upon the handle of the cart which she could not help to draw. How sweet it was! The light every moment growing softer, not cooler; the colours more contrasted, as the shadows lengthened; the bugle notes coming over the water now and then. Meredith looked, and drew deep breaths of the delicious air; but Maggie walked along pondering.
"Ditto," she began, "do you think everybody ought to do mission work?"
"The dear Lord did not give the charge to some of His people, did He?"
"But how can they do it? Everybody cannot go to the heathen?"
"He said, 'in all the world'—so that means at home as well as abroad, doesn't it?"
"Preach the gospel in all the world?"
"Yes."
"How can I, Ditto?"
"You and I, let us say. Well, Maggie, suppose we ask Mr. Murray? But one thing is certain; those who stay at home must furnish the money for those that go."