"Perhaps if he was married and had a wife to tell him a few things—"
"John—John!" Drusilla sat up very suddenly in her chair. "Why didn't I think of her before?"
"Think of whom, Drusilla? I thought we were talking about the Reverend Algernon, and he's a he."
"Sarah Lee."
"Sarah Lee? I don't follow you, Drusilla."
"John, some men are ugly, most men are conceited, and all men are thick-headed, and you're a man. Think of what a wife she'd make him!"
"Why, Drusilla!" John looked a little dazed. "I thought—I thought you didn't care especially for Sarah Lee. I heard you, if I remember rightly—"
"Never mind, John. Your memory's too long to be convenient. Never mind what I said—I take it all back. She's jest the wife for him. They jest fit together. They ain't neither one of 'em got a sense of humor. She's the kind of a woman who'd tell him a funny story when he's shavin', and he's the kind of a man that'd ask her where she put his clean shirt when she was doin' up her back hair with her mouth full of pins. It'd be too bad to spile two good families with 'em."
"But, Drusilla, they're neither one of them thinking about getting married. Perhaps they don't want to."
"Shows how little you know about human natur', John, especially woman human natur'. Sarah Lee'd jump at the chance. She'd been settin' in the station for a long time waitin' for the express to pick her up; now she'd be willin' to take a slow freight."