"She'll tell me, however."
"Mind you speak sense to her then, Madge. Don't go pitying her. You're too prone to pity every mortal thing that's in trouble, or thinks it is. You know as well as any one that Billy Screech is a bad and lazy man. You know that he's not built to make any female a good husband. Therefore tell her so."
"I hope she'll soon find a better to make her forget him."
"I hope she won't then. She've got Sophia's poor luck before her eyes. Better for a woman not to wed at all than wreck her life in it. Dorcas is better at home in my judgment. Nought but a tramp would fancy such a homely creature as her."
"You're wrong there, David. A girl's face isn't everything. But no brother ever yet knew what his sisters were worth."
"'Tis you who are wrong to say that," answered David. "I know their virtues very well. Sophia was far too good for her husband, and Rhoda--well, never was a better than her--a marvel of a woman."
"She is--yet the men keep off. But her heart's so warm and soft as any woman's, I daresay."
"Men generally want something less fine and high-minded," said David. "Something weaker and wilfuller than Rhoda. They are frighted of her. She makes 'em see how small they are, if you can understand that."
"She does. So strong and fearless. Looks through men and women with those eyes of hers. Yet you wouldn't have her bide a maiden into old age surely, David? There's men good enough--even for Rhoda."
Not a spark of spite marked the speech, and Madge only meant what she said.