"Well, that's just it. She's not a bit inclined to give it up to him, I can tell you."
"I can't say, Mrs. Ray, that the connexion is one that I like very much, in any way. There's no reason at all why your eldest daughter should not marry again, but—"
"What can I do, Mr. Comfort? Of course I know he's not just what he should be,—that is, for a clergyman. When I knew he hadn't come from any of the colleges, I never had any fancy for going to hear him myself. But of course I should never have left your church, Mr. Comfort,—not if anybody had come there. And if I could have had my way with Dorothy, she would never have gone near him,—never. But what could I do, Mr. Comfort? Of course she can go where she likes."
"Mr. Prime was a gentleman and a Christian," said the vicar.
"That he was, Mr. Comfort; and a husband for a young woman to be proud of. But he was soon taken away from her—very soon! and she hasn't thought much of this world since."
"I don't know what she's thinking of now."
"It isn't of herself, Mr. Comfort; not a bit. Dorothy is very stern; but, to give her her due, it's not herself she's thinking of."
"Why does she want to marry him, then?"
"Because he's lonely without some one to do for him."
"Lonely!—and he should be lonely for me, Mrs. Ray."