He put the food in his pocket and rode on; she stood and watched him; then her lips parted a little and as she pressed them together tears started from her eyes. There was none to see and she made no effort to restrain her sorrow. Her face was still tear-stained when two men overtook her and Bartley Crocker, with Billy Screech, bade her good-day. Billy was in a hurry and had to call at his home on the way elsewhere. He dearly liked Margaret and now, hearing that she was on the way to see Dorcas, took her basket for her. Mr. Screech rapidly passed out of sight and she was left alone with Bartley. He spoke at once. "What’s amiss?" he said. "You’ve been crying." "Nonsense!" "I daresay it was. Still, you have. And if ’twas nonsense, you can tell me so much the easier." "Some silly trifle. You oughtn’t to have taken any note of it." "I’ve just met David--going up to Ditsworthy. He must have passed you. Well, well--no business of mine, Madge. I’ll say nought and ask you to forgive me for being so bold as to see. Only I’m different to other people. We’ve got such a lot of secrets--you and me." Instantly she confided in him. "I know ’tis nought but your soft, silly heart, Bartley. We’m too much alike here and there, you and me. But David’s always right, and I do vex him with my foolish ways--too well I know it. I can’t be so firm and just as him. God knows I try; but my mind ban’t built in his manly pattern. I’m all for forgiving everybody and being friendly with everybody. He says I’m no better than a spaniel to fawn, but--" "Don’t," said Mr. Crocker. "Don’t tell me no more, Madge. I quite understand. ’Tis the man’s nature to be firm and stern, same as it is yours to be soft and gentle. You’ve got to meet one another. He must try and be soft, and you must try and be hard. I don’t suppose either of you can succeed; but if you try--and yet what silly rummage I be talking!" "I vexed him rather sharp a moment ago." "Look here!" he exclaimed. "In a bit of a cloud like this, Rhoda ought to be the very one living creature of all others to put everything right. Don’t you see that with her sort of nature--as firm as David and yet a woman--she ought to be able to see both sides and just speak the very word and do the very thing to make all go smooth and happy?" "I’m sure she would if she could," answered Margaret at once. "Rhoda and me are capital friends nine days out of ten. But of course she’s more like David than me." "I heard Screech say she was David in petticoats; but that’s only rude, foolish nonsense. She’s a woman, and she must have a woman’s softness and gentleness and understanding for women hidden away in her--a clever, beautiful creature like her."