"A man that's honest and speaks the truth, even though it makes people turn against him, mother."
The old people began to feel uncomfortable. Tears or excitement they could have done with, but this quiet determination was more difficult to fight.
"Have you thought of the example for Hannah?" they asked, harking back to what they felt to be a strong point in their favor.
"I have thought of everything," she said, lifting her calm eyes. "He'll not interfere with Hannah; she'll be allowed to go to Petersfield whenever you want her, and she'll go to church just the same; and so shall I." She turned to old Mrs. Barton and went on: "Hannah is James's child, and she'll be brought up as James's people wish. She is a girl that will have a will of her own—she has got it already, and it will grow. There is no occasion to be anxious about her."
"And what's to become of the farm?"
"The farm will stand where it is. I shall deal fairly by it for Hannah, if that's what you are thinking of."
Then the old man came to the rescue. "God will not have mercy on you hereafter, Annie, if you marry this unbeliever."
"Father, I will trust God to deal fairly by me. He'll not do less than man." She paused a moment and then went on: "You mustn't think I haven't thought it over, for I have. We must all work out our salvation for ourselves, and if we start from different points, and if Mr. Vincent has chosen a different road that we don't go along ourselves, why, I think the end will be the same for us all who try to do our best. It would be shaking one's confidence in God to think different. But you'll be wanting your tea, and it will be better than arguing about a man you don't understand, and one that I am going to marry, say what you will."
"I never thought you'd be so obstinate, Annie," Mrs. Barton said.