"No," said Lois. "Some things were hard; but not the work."
"Because you like it."
"Yes. O, Mr. Dillwyn, there is nothing pleasanter than to do one's work, if it is work one is sure God has given."
"That must be because you love him," said Philip gravely. "Yet I understand, that in the universal adjustment of things, the instrument and its proper work must agree." He was silent a minute, and Lois did not break the pause. If he would think, let him think, was her meaning. Then he began again.
"There are different ways. What would you think of a man who spent his whole life in painting?"
"I should not think that could be anybody's proper life-work."
"I think it was truly his, and he served God in it."
"Who was he?"
"A Catholic monk, in the fifteenth century."
"What did he paint? What was his name?"