"Now you ask a poser," declared Simon, "for my own opinion on such a high subject be very unsettled. In fact, I’d a long ways sooner go by yours, and if you, of all females, feel as marriage be too doubtful in the upshot, then I’d so soon, if not sooner, take your word for it. And I may say that I will. There’s nothing so restful as having your mind made up for you by a better one. And I can’t say the men I know--they’m all for it in a general way--bring up very strong arguments. There’s Amos Prouse tokened now, and he goes about properly terrified, so far as I can see; and there’s Mattacott, from being an even-tempered man, turned so sour as a sloe, because Jane West keeps him on the tenterhooks. To keep company is certainly a very bad state; and you can’t be married without going through it; so that’s another reason against." "I shall never marry," she said. "Then no more shan’t I," he declared. "And ’tis a troublesome weight off the mind to hear you say that." "Better not go by me, however." "’Tis just you and no other I would go by. Because--well, now since you’ve spoken and never been known to go from your word--the coast be clear for me and I feel so light as a lark in the air. If you’d said as you were for it, then my manhood would have--well, God knows what might have overtook me; for at such times a man gets into a raging fever and be ready to fight creation for the female, as the savage beasts do. But you’ve said it; and I quite agree. I know you’m right, and I say ditto to it. And we’ll see t’others dashing into it, but ’twill be nought to us." "It looks to me as if the useful people be often the single ones," she said. "There again! What good sense! ’Tis the very height of sense! And Paul’s on our side too. Better to marry than to burn, he says in his large wisdom. But better not to marry if you’m perfectly cool and contented, same as what I be, year in, year out." She did not answer and he spoke again. "Still, mind this. If it had been otherwise with you, it would have been otherwise with me. Never was a manlier man in his instincts of self-preservation than me, as my mother will tell you. And if by chance I’d fallen upon a creature of the female sex as appeared to be looking to me to share life with her, then I doubt it might have happened. But not now. If she comed along now it would be too late. Because I’ve had walks along with you in my time, and we’ve been terrible close, and we’ve understood each other as well as any two people could." "I suppose we have." "I tell you this, because you’ve given your word you ain’t going to marry," he concluded; and nothing more was said until they reached a lane that broke from the main road. Then Mr. Snell pulled up. "Here’s my way. You must get down now. You go straight on. I shall be back after eight o’clock, and will bide here till a quarter past if I can help you home." "No. I’ll be back long afore that, I hope."