n to his work; and I could never wish
to see him with a young inexperienced wife who would be a drag on him
instead of a help-mate.'

'He'd need have somebody, young or old,' observed Mrs. Linnet, 'to see as
he wears a flannel wescoat, an' changes his stockins when he comes in.
It's my opinion he's got that cough wi' sittin i' wet shoes and stockins;
an' that Mrs. Wagstaff's a poor addle-headed thing; she doesn't half tek
care on him.'

'O mother!' said Rebecca, 'she's a very pious woman. And I'm sure she
thinks it too great a privilege to have Mr. Tryan with her, not to do the
best she can to make him comfortable. She can't help her rooms being
shabby.'

'I've nothing to say again' her piety, my dear; but I know very well I
shouldn't like her to cook my victual. When a man comes in hungry an'
tired, piety won't feed him, I reckon. Hard carrots 'ull lie heavy on his
stomach, piety or no piety. I called in one day when she was dishin' up
Mr. Tryan's dinner, an' I could see the potatoes was as watery as watery.
It's right enough to be speritial--I'm no enemy to that; but I like my
potatoes mealy. I don't see as anybody 'ull go to heaven the sooner for
not digestin' their dinner--providin' they don't die sooner, as mayhap
Mr. Tryan will, poor dear man!'

'It will be a heavy day for us all when that comes to pass,' said Mrs.
Pettifer. 'We shall never get anybody to fill up _that_ gap. There's the
new clergyman that's just come to Shepperton--Mr. Parry; I saw him the
other day at Mrs. Bond's. He may be a very good man, and a fine preacher;
they say he is; but I thought to myself, What a difference between him
and Mr. Tryan! He's a sharp-sort-of-looking man, and hasn't that feeling
way with him that Mr. Tryan has. What is so wonderful to me in Mr. Tryan
is the way he puts himself on a level with one, and talks to one like a
brother. I'm never afraid of telling him anything. He never seems to look
down on anybody. He knows how to lift up those that are cast down, if
ever man did.'

'Yes,' said Mary. 'And when I see all the faces turned up to him in
Paddiford Church. I often think how hard it would be for any clergyman
who had to come after him; he has made the people love him so.'

Chapter 12

In her occasional visits to her near neighbour Mrs. Pettifer, too old a
friend to be shunned because she was a Tryanite, Janet was obliged
sometimes to hear allusions to Mr. Tryan, and even to listen to his
praises, whic