That is to say, perhaps, all except
one.
"Do as you like," said Mrs. Tugwell to her husband; "nothing as you
do makes much differ to me now. If you feel you can be happy with them
thousands of young men, and me without one left fit to lift a big crock,
go your way, Zeb; but you don't catch me going, with the tears coming
into my eyes every time I see a young man to remind me of Dan--though
there won't be one there fit to stand at his side. And him perhaps
fighting against his own King now!"
"Whatever hath coom to Dannel is all along of your own fault, I tell
'e." Captain Tugwell had scarcely enjoyed a long pipe since the night
when he discharged his paternal duty, with so much vigour, and such sad
results. Not that he felt any qualms of conscience, though his heart was
sometimes heavy, but because his good wife was a good wife no longer, in
the important sphere of the pan, pot, and kettle, or even in listening
to his adventures with the proper exclamations in the proper places.
And not only she, but all his children, from Timothy down to Solomon,
instead of a pleasant chatter around him, and little attentions, and a
smile to catch a smile, seemed now to shrink from him, and hold whispers
in a corner, and watch him with timid eyes, and wonder how soon their
own time would come to be lashed and turned away. And as for the women,
whether up or down the road--but as he would not admit, even to himself,
that he cared twopence what they thought, it is useless to give voice to
their opinions, which they did quite sufficiently.
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