"You do amaze me; but I’ll make bold to say you’m all wrong for once. ’Tis her softness that people take joy in. Always wanting to do for others--always putting herself on one side." "A few may see her goodness," admitted Mrs. Stanbury; "but what’s the use of that if them nearest to her can’t see? Her own husband haven’t got no patience with her now and again; and, mind you, I don’t blame him--such a common-sense, hard man as him. And Rhoda the same. ’Tis their natures to take a practical stand." "Don’t be downcast," urged the publican. "Drink a dish of your own tea and look on the bright side. ’Tis rather odd I should say that, seeing I’ve never been known to look on the bright side myself since my wife died. David’s a very good chap, and nobody thinks higher of him than me; but he’s just an everyday man--wise and businesslike and honest. There’s nought in him would make Margaret a beautifuller character than she is. Us don’t want for her to be hard and business-like, I’m sure." "’Tis what her husband wants is the thing, not what we want," explained Mrs. Stanbury. "If he wants finer than she, he wants better bread than is made with wheat," declared the old prize-fighter; "and if he can’t see the shining vartue and wonder of that woman’s heart, he must be blind as well as busy." "All very well; but Margaret’s to blame too," declared the other. "Never--nowhere. ’Tis always your way to give everybody best but your own." "To say ’blame’ is too strong a word, perhaps; but you must think how ’tis from her husband’s point of view. No children. Oh, Shillabeer, ’tis a dreadful thing! Just that might have made all right, and just that won’t happen. Nought worse could have fallen out--nought worse than that. A very terrible misfortune every way. To Ditsworthy I know they take an awful serious view of it. Naturally they would do so. And when I see that mother of a quiverful coming, I wish I could sink into the earth! Her eye brims over with reproaches, though never a word she says." "This is all silly nonsense you’m talking," declared Mr. Shillabeer, strapping up his gaiter again. "Never did I hear such foolishness. Good Lord, han’t there enough childer in the world? Take comfort, I beg of you." Bartholomew Stanbury entered at this moment and was glad to see the publican. "Heard your fowling-piece banging away up over," he said, "and hoped as you might perhaps drop in ’pon the road back. Well, here’s Christmas again, and like to be a soft one after all. The weather’s changing." "A busy Christmas in the village," said Reuben; "but nothing out of the common offering to happen, I believe." "Don’t you be too sure of that, ’Dumpling.’ What would you say to another fight?"