"I don't see 'lights' and 'colours' so much as you do, Dolly; I am not
an artist; but if God meant them to be happy, why aren't they happy?"

"Sin," said Dolly.

"What's the use of thinking about it? You and I cannot help it."

"Christina, that is not true. We can help some of it."

"By giving money, you mean? Well, we do, whenever we see occasion; but
there is no end of the cheatery."

"Giving money will not take away the world's misery, Christina."

"What will, then? It will do a good deal."

"It will do a good deal, but it does not touch the root of the trouble."

"What does, Dolly?--you dreamer."

"The knowledge of Christ."

"Well, it is the business of clergymen and missionaries to give them
that."

"Prove it."

"Why, that's what they are for."

"Do you think there are enough of them to preach the good news to every
creature?"

"Well, then, there ought to be more."

"And in the meantime?--Tell me, Christina, to whom was that command
given, to preach the gospel to every creature?"

"To the apostles, of course!"

"Twelve men? Or eleven men, rather. They could not. No, it was given to
all the disciples; and so, Christina, it was given to you, and to me."

"To preach the gospel!" said Christina.

"That is, just to tell the good news."

"And to whom do you propose we should tell it?"

"The command says, everybody."

"How can you and I do that, Dolly?"

"That is just what I am studying, Christina. I do not quite know. But
when I look out on all this wonderful beauty, and see what it means,
and think how miserable the world is,--just the very opposite,--I feel
that I must do it, somehow or other."

Christina lifted her arms above her head and clapped her hands
together. "Mad, mad!" she exclaimed--"you are just gone mad, Dolly. Oh,
I wish you'd get married, and forget all your whimsies. The right sort
of man would make you forget them. Haven't you found the right sort of
man yet?"

"The right sort of man would help me carry them out."

"It must be my Sandie, then; there isn't another match for you in
extravagant ideas in all this world. What does Mr. St. Leger think of
them?"

"I never asked him. I suppose he would take very much your view."

"And you don't care what view he takes?" said Christina, looking
sharply at her.

"Not in the least. Except for his own sake."

The one drawback upon the perfect felicity of this visit was, that the
said Sandie did not appear. They could not