Pine Needles Part 32

"But everywhere, Mr. Murray? Must we be confessing _everywhere_?"

"What places would you make the exception?"

Flora was silent.

"Public places in general?"

Still Flora was silent.

"Allow me to ask--Do you approve of the custom anywhere of asking a blessing upon our meat?"

"Certainly--in one's own house. Papa did it always. Meredith does it."

"Then, Miss Flora, if it is a right thing to do at home, how is it not a right thing to do abroad?"

"Everywhere, Mr. Murray? Would you do it in a restaurant?"

"If it is a right thing to do, Miss Flora?--why not in a restaurant?"

"Or in somebody else's house perhaps, where it is not the custom?"

"Why not?"

"Why it seems to me like a sort of preaching to people; like saying to them that you are better than they are; setting one's self up."

"Pardon me--how can it be setting myself up, to thank my Father in heaven for what He has given me, and to ask Him to let me have also a blessing with it?"

"Why couldn't you do it quietly?"

"I should always in such places do it quietly; not aloud."

"But I mean--without letting anybody know it?"

"Why should not people know it?"

"Excuse me, Mr. Murray; but I always think it is making a show--making a pretence."

"If it is a pretence, the worse for me, whether at home or abroad. But a _show_ I want it to be, Miss Flora; a show that I am a child of G.o.d, and love to own my Father's hand everywhere."

"You are very good to let me talk just what I think, without being offended," said Flora. "You will not think me rude, Mr. Murray? I really want to know your opinions. Don't you think that in such things there is a tacit implied reproof of the other persons present who do not as you do?"

"How can I help that?"

"But is that polite?"

"That question sinks before the other--Is it duty?"

"I cannot see it to be duty," said Flora.

"I have always been a little confused about it," said Meredith; "in such cases and places, I mean."

"It makes one very disagreeably singular," Flora added.

"It is impossible to follow Christ fully, Miss Flora, and not be that more or less."

"_Disagreeably_ singular, Mr. Murray?"

"I agree with you, I am sure, in thinking that it is disagreeable to be singular."

"But must one? I always thought it was such bad taste."

"You perceive it is not a question of taste."

"Why then of necessity?"

"Because whoever follows the Lord fully will live in a way the very opposite of that which is followed by the world. He will be marked out from it--even as the Lord was Himself."

"Still, one is not to make one's self unnecessarily odd," said Meredith; "and I have until now been in doubt whether people did not do it in this very matter of asking a blessing at tables where n.o.body else followed the practice."

"I am sure it is not unnecessary," said Mr. Murray. "I am sure that thought is a temptation of the enemy. I am sure that the simple fact of having, though in so small a matter, shown one's colours and confessed Christ, is a help all through the day to go on confessing Him, as occasion may serve."

Silence fell after this, and some of the party noticed how the sky and clouds were changing. The sun had sunk below the actual horizon now; long since he had dipped behind Eagle Hill; and the gold and the purple were fading from the racks of vapour which had caught and given the colours so brilliantly. Pale purple, pale fawn, ashes of roses, then soft greys succeeded one another. The eastern hills had lost their light; the shadows were gone, night was softly letting her mantle fall on the world. Still the little party sat on the rock, and looked, and felt the soft breath of the air, and watched the fading glory. n.o.body wanted to move, and twilight would last long enough to let them get home; and so they waited. Fenton, I suppose, had gone home, for they heard the rustle of his footsteps no longer. By and by, as they watched the grey strips of vapour which had been so brilliant a little while ago, they began to change again. The greys took on a purplish warm hue, which brightened and brightened, and then pure carmine began to touch the soft under folds and edges of the clouds, increasing in vividness, until over all the sky every speck and ma.s.s of vapour was glowing in brilliant crimson. For a few minutes this; and then it too faded, and rapidly the crimson sank to purple and the purple back to grey, and all knew that the reign of night and shades would be broken no more till the sun rising. Slowly the little party got up from the rock; unwillingly they turned their backs upon it; lingeringly they left the place which had been so pleasant, and took their way down the hill through the gathering dusk. The walk was still very pretty; Maggie held her uncle's hand, the others cl.u.s.tered round, and they went running and skipping till the level land was reached, then slowly again, as if loath to have the evening quite come to an end.

It was pleasure of another sort to gather round the tea-table, bright with lights and covered with good things.

"I do not think," Meredith observed, "that I ever enjoyed more in one day."

"Lucky for you!" said Fenton. "I don't see the use of having Sundays, for my part."

"How can you help having them?" said Maggie. "They must come, just like Sat.u.r.days, or Mondays."

"That's deep!" said Fenton. "But if they must come, as you have originally discovered, why can't one use them reasonably."

"As how?" said Mr. Murray, preventing an eager outbreak of Maggie's.

"Like other days. Why shouldn't I fish, for instance? or shoot partridges? The fish don't know the difference. Why should one mope on one particular day?"

"I never do," said his uncle. "I am sorry you have such a bad taste."

"As what, sir?" (fiercely).

"As to mope."

"How's a fellow to do anything else?"

"Depends on himself."

"Well, what's the use of my not fis.h.i.+ng? Why shouldn't I fish on Sunday?"