"Parson's work," she said. "What's that to taking your share in the little ones? If I thought us should have no childer, I'd so soon hang myself as not, Dan." "Your ideas do hurtle about my ears like hail," he said, "And they'm awful wild and silly sometimes." "I know it. You'll larn me better come presently." "I hope so," he said. "You're all right at heart--only the pattern of your ideas now and then be a thought too outlandish for a Christian home. You wasn't taught all you've got to larn. I don't say it out of no disrespect to father; but--well--us all have a deal to larn yet--the oldest and youngest--and me most of all." Daniel heaved a contented sigh upon this platitude, and his day's work began. CHAPTER III PROGRESS IN IDEAS The Brendons always went to morning service at Lydford on Sunday. Sometimes Mr. Tapson, who was a churchman, accompanied them; but Agg and Lethbridge belonged to another sect, and their place of worship was at Mary Tavy. Neither John Prout nor his sister ever went. Indeed, Sunday dinner occupied the great part of Tabitha's energies on every seventh day. Once, being early for service, Daniel and Sarah Jane wandered amid the tombs, and then sat down upon the churchyard wall and looked out over a wooded gorge beneath. Brendon was always very serious and sober on Sunday. It seemed to his wife that he donned a mental habit with his black coat, and in her heart she rejoiced when the day had passed. He looked strictly after her religion from the time of their marriage, and had lengthened her morning and evening prayers considerably with additions from his own. She fell in readily with his wishes, and was obedient as a child; but none the less she knew that the inward and spiritual signs he foretold from her increased religious activity, delayed their appearance. The daily act of faith was not necessary to her mental health, and it proved powerless to alter her natural bent of thought. Sometimes she still shocked him, but less often than of old. She loved him with a great love; and love taught her to understand his stern soul a little. Not fear, but affection, made her careful. Meantime her own attitude to life and her own frank and joyous spirit were absolutely unchanged. Only, from consideration for him, she hid her thought a little, and often shut her mouth upon an opinion, because she remembered that it might give him pain. "Do you ever think about the graves?" asked her husband, looking round thoughtfully at the grass-clad hillocks. But she kept her eyes before her and only shook her head. "No, Dan--can't say as I do. The churchyard's the place for dead men--not living ones. Us shall spend a terrible lot of time here come presently, and I don't want to waste much of it here now." "'Tis a steadying job to read the verses above all these bones," he said.