Margaret laughed out loud at the idea of her sister-in-law in a shop.
"Nought will ever tame her down to that," she said. "'Twas a pity you learnt the upholstering business, Bartley. It didn't lift you in her eyes, I'm afraid."
"Let her say 'yes,' and I'll learn what she pleases that'll help to make a living. I'd very well like to go to Canada and grow apples and corn."
"So would she, I do think--if she could get to care enough about you."
"Why shouldn't she? A maiden can always find one chap that's good enough to marry, and I'm sure she'll not meet with a better in these parts."
"I'm very sure she won't."
"Well, then, I've a right to expect her to give in. There's nobody else? You can honestly say there's nobody else, Madge?"
"There's always somebody else where a pretty girl be wife-old," she answered. "In the case of Rhoda--well, it seems absurd--it is absurd--too absurd to be true, and yet I won't deny there's something in it."
"You mean that bearded antic of a Snell?"
"He's very much gone on Rhoda in his cautious, lizard sort of a way. He looks at her in church."