The woman glanced at him sharply, and then her eyes grew dreamy and thoughtful again.
“Woodham was a good, kind husband to me, sir,” she said gently.
“Yes; but see what a cold, stern, hard life you lived. He—”
“Hush, sir, please,” said the woman gently; “he was a good, true man to me, and we all misjudge at times.”
“Is that meant for a cut at me, Sarah?” said Chris cynically.
“Yes, sir,” said the woman naïvely. “I don’t think you ought to be one to cast a stone—at the dead.”
He turned upon her angrily, but she met his sharp look with one so grave and calm that it disarmed him, and, led on by the fact that he had hardly spoken to a soul for weeks, he said—
“Few people have such cause to be bitter as I have.”
“We all think our fate the hardest, sir.”
“Going to preach at me, Sarah?”