“No, no, be quiet, No. 3,” exclaimed Aunt Judy, “I wish you would try and understand what I say!”

“Well, then,” said No. 3, “it appears to me that do what one might now the world has grown bad, it would be impossible to pronounce that ‘very good,’ as the result of one’s work.  There would always be something miserable and unsatisfactory at the end of everything; I mean even if one really was to look into things closely, and work for other people’s good, as you say.”

“There might be something miserable and unsatisfactory, in the result, certainly,” answered Aunt Judy; “but that it would all be ‘vanity and vexation of spirit’ I deny.  Our blessed Saviour came into the world after it had grown bad, remember; and He worked solely for the restoration of the ‘very good,’ which sin had defaced.  It was undoubtedly miserable and unsatisfactory that He should be rejected by the very creatures He came to help; but when He uttered the words ‘It is finished,’ the work which He had accomplished, He might well have looked upon and called very good:  very very good; even beyond the creation, were that possible.”

“There can be no comparison between our Saviour and us,” murmured No. 3.

“No,” replied his sister; “but only let people work in the same direction, and they will have more ‘profit’ of their ‘labour,’ than King Solomon ever owned to, who had, one fears, only learnt, in order to be learned, and worked, to please himself.  No man who employs himself in tracing out God’s footsteps in the world, or in working in God’s spirit for the world, will ever find such labours end in ‘vanity and vexation of spirit!’ Solomon, Dr. Faustus, and the grumblers, have only themselves to thank for their disappointment.”

“It’s very curious,” observed No. 3, getting up, and stretching himself over the fire, “I mean about Solomon and Dr. Faustus.  But what can one do?  What can you or I do?  It’s absurd to be fancying one can do good to one’s fellow-creatures.”

“Nevertheless, there is one I want you to do good to, at the present moment,” said Aunt Judy—­“if it is not actually raining.  Don’t you remember what despair No. 1 was in this morning, when father sent her off on the pony in such a hurry.”

“Ah, that pony!  That was just what I wanted myself,” interrupted No. 3.

“Exactly, of course,” replied Aunt Judy.  “But you were not the messenger father wanted, so do not let us go all over that ground again, pray.  The fact was, No. 1 had just heard that her pet ’Tawny Rachel’ was very ill, and she wanted to go and see her, and give her some good advice, and I am to go instead.  Now No. 3, suppose you go instead of me, and save me a wet walk?”

No. 3, of course, began by protesting that it was not possible that he could do any good to an old woman.  Old women were not at all in his way.  He could only say, how do you do? and come away.