"Don't you believe that," she answered. "Church-going don't put fat on the bones, whatever else it may do. He should have a female after him, to fuss a bit, and coddle him, and see he lets his proper food down. He wants somebody to listen to his talk—somebody to sharpen his wits on."
With startling intuition of truth she spoke; but Daniel did not appreciate her discernment.
"Fewer that listen to his talk, the better," he said. "Ban't likely Mr. Woodrow will be happy so long as he sucks poison out of all sorts of godless books."
"Poison is as poison does," she answered. "Everybody says he's a very good sort of man. The good man can't be godless."
"Because his Maker's stronger than his opinions and ban't sleeping, though Woodrow's conscience may be. In time of trouble I wouldn't give a rush for his way. There's nought to help then but Heaven; and so he'll find it. Not that I judge—only I'm sorry for it."
"He wants a woman after him," repeated Sarah Jane decisively.
Daniel laughed at her.
"You think, because you and me are married, that nobody can be happy otherwise."
"Men and women must come to it for sartain, if they'm to be complete, and shine afore their fellow-creatures. A bachelor's an unfinished thing; and so's a maiden—I don't care who she is. And she knows it at the bottom of her heart, for all she pretends different."
"That's not Christianity," Daniel answered; "and you oughtn't to say it, or think it. You speak in the first flush of being married; and I feel just the same and scorn a single man; but 'tis silly nonsense, and we'm both wrong. The saints and martyrs was mostly single, and the holiest Christians that ever lived haven't found no use for women as a rule. Christ's Self wasn't married for that matter."