"If that's so, I've gained something to-day as well as lost something, Madge."
"David--it shows what he is, Hartley."
"Yes. He's high above anything small or mean."
She continued to reflect. It was impossible to say much more on the subject, and, indeed, the brightest that could be said was spoken. The wife, though she knew that her husband had long since resumed his old absorbed attitude and found less and less leisure for amenity and tenderness, could not whisper this outside her own heart.
"It was good and brave of you," she said. "And dear David belongs to the large-souled sort of men that ban't above learning even on such a sacred, secret business as his wife. But he knew you had known me ever since I was a little girl."
Bartley nodded.
"So long as you can tell me that good came of it, I'm content. Now leave it. Eat your lunch and then I must go. And strive to bring 'em both--Rhoda and David--to the funeral."
"All Sheepstor will surely go."
She brought her food from her pocket and he watched her eat some little sandwiches made of bread and cheese. Their backs were turned to Nosworthy bridge, but they were quite visible from it.
"There's more here than I want," she said. "I wish you'd take some."