"It will sound funny to your generation, but I reckon he's after Avis."
"They're children, Margery!"
"To you, yes; not quite to me; not at all to themselves. Bob is nearly nineteen and has done a man's work for a couple of years now, and Avis—she's old for her age too. She likes him."
"Chasten her then. She didn't ought to have an eye for a male for years yet."
"It's all very pretty and natural. She can't help it, and she don't know in the least what it means I expect. But he does. He's not a gadabout boy, or fond of the girls—quite the contrary; but he'll often come over of a Sunday to dinner now and—look at her. And Jacob likes him. He likes his nature. I wouldn't say but that Bob Elvin suits him better, in a manner of speaking, than his own sons."
"If so, then a very wicked thing," answered Mrs. Huxam. "I trust you're wrong, Margery, because that would show something in Jacob that's contrary to religion. And when you see things contrary to religion, hope dies. And if you tell me he looks at another man's son more favourable than upon his own, then I little like it."
"It's nothing unnatural, mother. Bob's very quiet and attends to Jacob's every word. John Henry and Peter don't listen to him as close as they might. They're full of their own ideas; and Jacob doesn't pretend to be a farmer, though, of course, he knows all about it really. But he lets John Henry run on and never troubles much to contradict him. And Robert don't run on. He listens and says but little. He's anxious above his age, with the cares of the farm and a dying father. He's called to think of many things that my boys haven't got to think about. We cheer him up."
"There's nothing whatever to cast him down about his father," answered Judith. "That's a part of life we've all got to face; and if Joe Elvin is right with Christ, then to see him getting daily nearer his reward should be a good sight for a good son. It's only selfishness makes us mourn, just as half the big, costly marble stones in the churchyard are stuck up to ourselves rather than to the dead."
"Like will cleave to like, and his two sons aren't like Jacob very much. He loves them dearly, mother, and is proud of them; but he don't care to see any of us coming forward. He's sensitive and shrinking about his own. I never shall understand all there is to him and I won't pretend it. One thing is sure: he never wounds by intent, like most men do when they're angry. He never is angry outside. He has a sort of cold anger; but you can't always tell why, and he never lets you know why. Of course every man has got his own difficulties and the side he hides from his wife."
"Not at all," answered her mother. "Many men hide nothing, for the very good reason they've got nothing to hide; and many men hide nothing, for the very good reason they can't. Look at your father. Would I have stood secrets and 'cold anger' as you call it? I wouldn't stand hot anger, or any sort of anger; because well I know that he's got nothing to be angry about. For that matter to be angry at all is godless and means weak faith."