"Sent him away with a flea in his ear! There was a few high words, and then I seed my gentleman marching off across Ringmoor, and Dorcas with her apron to her eyes. ’Better bide single all your days than marry an out-at-elbows good-for-nought like that,’ I told her; but, of course, she knowed better, and said he was all he should be, and that her life would be gall and wormwood without him." "Your father’s not one to be flouted." "He is not; and Dorcas knows it very well. Us shan’t hear no more about the chap." "She’ll tell me, however." "Mind you speak sense to her then, Madge. Don’t go pitying her. You’re too prone to pity every mortal thing that’s in trouble, or thinks it is. You know as well as any one that Billy Screech is a bad and lazy man. You know that he’s not built to make any female a good husband. Therefore tell her so." "I hope she’ll soon find a better to make her forget him." "I hope she won’t then. She’ve got Sophia’s poor luck before her eyes. Better for a woman not to wed at all than wreck her life in it. Dorcas is better at home in my judgment. Nought but a tramp would fancy such a homely creature as her." "You’re wrong there, David. A girl’s face isn’t everything. But no brother ever yet knew what his sisters were worth." "’Tis you who are wrong to say that," answered David. "I know their virtues very well. Sophia was far too good for her husband, and Rhoda--well, never was a better than her--a marvel of a woman." "She is--yet the men keep off. But her heart’s so warm and soft as any woman’s, I daresay." "Men generally want something less fine and high-minded," said David. "Something weaker and wilfuller than Rhoda. They are frighted of her. She makes ’em see how small they are, if you can understand that." "She does. So strong and fearless. Looks through men and women with those eyes of hers. Yet you wouldn’t have her bide a maiden into old age surely, David? There’s men good enough--even for Rhoda." Not a spark of spite marked the speech, and Madge only meant what she said. "We must find her a husband, David!" He shook his head doubtfully. "A kicklish business. She’s not the sort to let others do that work for her. She’ve got no use for a man in my opinion. There’s only one male as ever I saw her eye follow for a yard, and that, if you please, be the leat-keeper, Simon Snell." Madge laughed. "Poor Mr. Snell! I can’t picture him ever daring to lift his eyes to Rhoda." "No more can’t I," agreed David. "And don’t you breathe what I’ve told you to Rhoda, for I may be wrong, and, right or wrong, she’d never forgive even me for saying it. She’ll be happy enough here with us, and if a husband comes--come he will. But I don’t want him to come in a hurry."