I was praying, and while we was singing, but when we all sat down and Dinah began to speak, th’ young un stood stock still all at once, and began to look at her with’s mouth open, and presently he ran away from’s mother and went to Dinah, and pulled at her, like a little dog, for her to take notice of him.  So Dinah lifted him up and held th’ lad on her lap, while she went on speaking; and he was as good as could be till he went to sleep—­and the mother cried to see him.”

“It’s a pity she shouldna be a mother herself,” said Adam, “so fond as the children are of her.  Dost think she’s quite fixed against marrying, Seth?  Dost think nothing ’ud turn her?”

There was something peculiar in his brother’s tone, which made Seth steal a glance at his face before he answered.

“It ’ud be wrong of me to say nothing ’ud turn her,” he answered.  “But if thee mean’st it about myself, I’ve given up all thoughts as she can ever be my wife.  She calls me her brother, and that’s enough.”

“But dost think she might ever get fond enough of anybody else to be willing to marry ’em?” said Adam rather shyly.

“Well,” said Seth, after some hesitation, “it’s crossed my mind sometimes o’ late as she might; but Dinah ’ud let no fondness for the creature draw her out o’ the path as she believed God had marked out for her.  If she thought the leading was not from Him, she’s not one to be brought under the power of it.  And she’s allays seemed clear about that—­as her work was to minister t’ others, and make no home for herself i’ this world.”

“But suppose,” said Adam, earnestly, “suppose there was a man as ’ud let her do just the same and not interfere with her—­she might do a good deal o’ what she does now, just as well when she was married as when she was single.  Other women of her sort have married—­that’s to say, not just like her, but women as preached and attended on the sick and needy.  There’s Mrs. Fletcher as she talks of.”

A new light had broken in on Seth.  He turned round, and laying his hand on Adam’s shoulder, said, “Why, wouldst like her to marry thee, Brother?”

Adam looked doubtfully at Seth’s inquiring eyes and said, “Wouldst be hurt if she was to be fonder o’ me than o’ thee?”

“Nay,” said Seth warmly, “how canst think it?  Have I felt thy trouble so little that I shouldna feel thy joy?”

There was silence a few moments as they walked on, and then Seth said, “I’d no notion as thee’dst ever think of her for a wife.”

“But is it o’ any use to think of her?” said Adam.  “What dost say?  Mother’s made me as I hardly know where I am, with what she’s been saying to me this forenoon.  She says she’s sure Dinah feels for me more than common, and ‘ud be willing t’ have me.  But I’m afraid she speaks without book.  I want to know if thee’st seen anything.”

“It’s a nice point to speak about,” said Seth, “and I’m afraid o’ being wrong; besides, we’ve no right t’ intermeddle with people’s feelings when they wouldn’t tell ’em themselves.”