"You can strain that into foolishness," he answered. "And you are prone to do it. 'Tis a sort of gush in you. You mean nought--yet there 'tis. See how you look at a tramp that comes begging, and how Tabitha Prout looks at him. She tells the truth in her eyes, and shows her contempt of the rascal; you look as if you doted on his lazy carcase, and would gladly pour out the fat of the larder for him." "I know 'tis so. I be fond of my kind--just because they be my kind, I think. I like 'em all--men, women, childern." "So you should do--in a general spirit of religion, because they are made in God's image." "No!" she said vehemently. "Not that--not that. Because they are made in mine!" He showed discontent. "You won't come to see the truth, talk as I may." "Look at the night when you heard our good news," she answered. "That shows the difference betwixt us. You was thanking God so deep and true, that you hadn't a thought for Mr. Woodrow. You was so wrapped up in heaven that you never seemed to think 'twas a man on earth--a creature like yourself--that had lifted you up. All the credit went to God Almighty--all. Not a drop to farmer. Can't us poor human souls have a bit of praise when our hearts are generous and we do good things?" So she argued in all honesty and out of a passionate abstract love for her kind. At that moment she forgot the circumstances and the nature of the bargain. She only begged that her husband should bestow a little of his gratitude on his earthly master. "As for that, a good human being be only the middle-man between God and us," he said. "The Book says all good comes from Him, and only from Him. Same as evil comes from the Prince of Evil into man's heart." "Then what be we but a pack of dancing dolls with them two--God an' the Dowl--fighting for the strings? Is that all you'd make of us? Is that all you'd make of me? You'll live to know different, Daniel." "You fly away so," he said. "Of course there's Free Will, an' a very great subject 'tis; an' Mr. Matherson be going to preach upon it next Sunday, I'm glad to say. So I hope we'll both win a bit of light when he does." Sarah Jane said no more. Strange thoughts, not wholly unhappy, worked in her heart, and she felt frank joy to think that, though Daniel Brendon had not paid Hilary for his kindness, somebody had done so. So the husband and wife each failed to grasp the reality of the other. While she thus reflected, he was busying himself with how to earn this handsome increase of salary. A dozen plans began to develop in his mind. Only the inertia of old routine and custom still opposed his various enterprises. But now had dawned a promise of power, and he was full of hope. They reached the mournful habitation of Gregory Friend to find him very ill. He sat by his fire with a couple of sacks over his shoulders, and complained of great pain in the lower chest and back, with difficulty of breathing.