"There was no more saintly man in the three parishes."
"The mischief is, saints are generally so unpractical. They tell me the son is of different fibre."
"He's as upright as his father, but with a difference."
"A cruel thing to send him to gaol on suspicion, and keep him there so long."
"It was a wicked thing to do, but it hasn't spoilt him. He's the most popular man in St. Ivel to-day."
"I remember him at the sale--a handsome, high-spirited fellow; but his sister interested me most. I thought her smile the sweetest I had ever seen."
"She's as sweet as her smile, and a good deal more so," William said, with warmth. "In fact, she has no equal hereabouts."
"I hear you are on friendly terms with them."
"Well, yes," William said slowly. "Not that I would presume to call myself their equal, for they are in reality very superior people. There's no man in St. Goram, and I include the landed folk, so well educated or so widely read as Ralph Penlogan."
"She's a lady, every inch of her," William said warmly; "and what is more, they'll make their way in the world. He's ability, and of no ordinary kind. The rich folk may crush him for a moment, but he'll come into his own in the long-run."
"Proud? Well, it all depends on what you mean by the word. Dignity they have, self-respect, independence; but pride of the common or garden sort they haven't a bit."
"I thought I could not be mistaken," Sam said, after a pause; "and to tell you the honest truth, I've never been able to think of any other girl since I saw Miss Penlogan at the sale."
"I don't think I quite understand," he said, after a long pause.
"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Sam questioned eagerly.
"I don't know that I do," William answered.
"Well, I do," Sam retorted. "A man may fall desperately in love with a girl without even speaking to her."
"Explain yourself," William said, with a curiously numb feeling at his heart.
"Mind, I am speaking to you in perfect confidence," Sam said.
"I was taken with Ruth Penlogan the very first moment I set eyes on her. I don't think it was pity, mind you, though I did pity her from my very heart. Her great sad eyes; her sweet, patient face; her gentle, pathetic smile--they just bowled me over. I could have knelt down at her feet and worshipped her."