"He's a grand character in his way. Prosperity has sweetened him, so that he'd pick an insect out of his path nowadays rather than put any creature to pain." "He's all for letting the world share the good that's come to him. And why shouldn't he thank God, Hilary? God's brought the good. I'll cleave to that--else how can I live?" "Then so will I," he said. "God's my judge, but I'll believe in God too! Yet--yet once--not so long ago neither--I knew a lovely woman that claimed goodness rather hotly for man, and hated the sky to have all the praise when pleasant things were done!" He looked out of the window, then he caressed her. "I've changed from that," she said. "I clung to it awhile--then it gived way somehow. 'Tis easier to--to put it on God. All the same, I almost hate a man when he calls himself a lowly worm, as Daniel often does. And I know well that God don't like us to cry bad wares neither. Bain't no compliment to Him, anyway." "Give man--and woman--the praise still. I like your old way best. You're a wonderful darling, and my whole life; and I'll think just what you please; and I'll come to hear your minister next Sunday--even that I'll do--for you and Daniel. Tell him that you nearly made me promise. Then he'll surely say a word next time we meet; and I'll relent and appear among the faithful! Is there a penitent's bench?" CHAPTER III JARRATT BECOMES A FATHER Despite a promise, Hilary Woodrow did not visit the chapel of the Luke Gospellers. He caught a chill and kept the house for a fortnight. Then he decided that he must go immediately into the milder climate of the coast, and left Lydford for Dawlish. John Prout accompanied him and stopped for a few days. At last the patience of Mary Weekes was rewarded, and she became mistress of the ivy-clad house, and the orchard, and the sweet water from the Moor that ran through her husband's little domain. A child was to be born to her, and she felt glad that her own house would see the event. Susan still remained as maid-of-all-work; but she let it be understood that her services could not be depended upon for more than a year at the utmost. Then a certain square-built youth, called Bobby Huggins, one of Valentine's many grandchildren, intended to marry her. A cottage and a wife would be within his reach at the expiration of that time; and all men admitted that Bobby's deserts embraced both. He was an under-gamekeeper, and no more promising and steadfast spirit had ever shone in the great family of Huggins. It happened that the patriarch himself called on Philip Weekes three days after Christmas, and accepted Hephzibah's invitation to stop and eat a mouthful.