"Theresa, you know I treat my tenants like human beings, but you want to pamper them."
"No I don't. I know it's the tendency, but I don't. Oh, my good soul, if you had ever done any housework, you would know the value of water! Have you ever done any? Have you ever so much as washed up a dish? No; I thought not. I have. And I've scrubbed floors—don't shudder; it's good exercise—and I've cooked; but I have not had several children to look after at the same time, and that's what many of these women have to do. I know it's pastoral and patriarchal to go to the well, but it's not so pleasant to come back with two heavy pails. And it has to be done a good many times a day if there's to be cleanliness. I'm not a stickler for too much cleaning, but I saw a woman the other day carrying pails when she wasn't fit to lift a weight. She rested four times between the well and the house. I reached her in time to prevent her going on a second journey. It was when you were seeing about those young trees."
"The larches?"
"Yes." She frowned. She had avoided naming them, and now he stabbed her with their remembered scent.
"Did you—what did you say to her?"
"I told her she wasn't to do it. No; I didn't complain about the landlord! But she wanted the water for washing, so I fetched it myself."
"Theresa!"
"There, you see! And I'm a strong young woman. Imagine—oh, try to imagine me in her position!"
"I'll do it."
She leaned to touch his hand. "Thank you. You only need to see things. 'The bride presented the bridegroom with a pair of spectacles, and the bridegroom's gift to the bride was a ton of iron piping!'" She shook her reins. "Shall we gallop? I wish this old omnibus were a bit friskier. He gives me nothing to do. Can't I be promoted to something else?"