But there were other men, like William Brown, who were a shade too
honest and too stiff-chinned to buckle under to the social conditions
of England in those days, and who were consequently not exactly pestered
with offers of employment. And a man who could see the difference
between doffing his ragged cap to a dissolute squire or parson, and
saluting his better on parade, could also see the selfishness of
leaving an honest girl to languish for him. Brown could not get a
living in England. So he told his girl to get a better man, swung
his canvas bag across his shoulder and marched away.
"What kind of a man is a better man than Bill?" she had wondered.
Men like Bill seem to have a knack of judging character, and of picking
girls who are as steadfast as themselves. So it is not to be wondered
at that almost before her tears were dry she had set about attempting
what few women of her type and time would have dreamed of. If Bill
had set her free, she reasoned, Bill had no more authority over her,
and she might do exactly what she chose.
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