Indeed, all through supper
she was admiring him. She thought how beautifully he spoke, expressing
himself so elegantly, and with tones in his voice that every day
seemed to sound a little more cultivated. At first after their arrival
at Vine-Pits, being plunged again into the midst of purely rustic
talk, he had fallen back in regard to his diction. Instinctively he
reverted to the dialect that had been his own, and that was being used
by everybody about him; but now one might say that he really had two
languages--his rough patter for the yard and the fields, and his
carefully-measured phrasing for the home, office, and upper circles.
She understood that his constant reading and his unflagging desire for
self-improvement were telling rapidly; and with a touch of sadness she
wondered if, passing on always, he would finally leave her quite
behind.
No, while life lasted, he would hold to her. He would never shake her
off now. Even if she were old and ugly, useless to him, a dead-weight
upon his ascending progress, he would be true to her now. Even if his
love died, the memory of it would keep him still hers. And she thought
of the pity in him, as well as the strength. The man who could not
resist the appeal of a poor little stray dog would not break faith
with the mother of his children; and she thought, "Yes, whatever I say
to him, I know really and truly that it was a nobler, better thing to
risk all than to allow even a dog to perish.
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