He was beginning definitely to enjoy her company. Thyrza’s charm was of the comfortable, pervasive kind that attracted all sorts of men in every station. He found that he liked to listen to her soft, drawly voice, to watch her slow, heavy movements, to gaze at her tranquil face with the hair like flowering grass. She at once soothed and stimulated him. She encouraged him to talk, and when the edge was off his appetite, he did so, telling her a little of what had happened to him the last night and day.
“And what do you think I’ve learned by it all, Mrs. Tom? What do you think my trouble’s taught me?”
Thyrza shook her head. In her simple life trouble came and went without any lesson but its patient bearing.
“It’s taught me I’m a blacksmith, and no minister.”
“No—I’m not—I’m just the smith. And to prove it to you, from this day forward I shall not teach or preach another word.”
“Wot! give up the Bethel!—not be minister here any more?”
“Not here nor anywhere. I’m no minister—I’ve never been a minister.”
“There’s no good arguing. My mind’s made up. I shall write to the Assembly this very night.”
“How shall I dare to teach and guide others, who could not even teach and guide my own son? No, don’t interrupt me—the Lord has opened my eyes, and I see myself as just a poor, plain, ignorant man. Reckon I’m only the common blacksmith I was born and bred, and trying to make myself different has led to nothing but pain and trouble, both for me and for others. I ask you what good has my ministry ever done a human soul?”
“Oh, Mus’ Sumption, doan’t spik lik that,” said Thyrza, with the tears in her eyes. “Reckon I’ll never disremember how beautiful you talked of Tom last night ... and oh, the comfort it guv me to hear you talk so!”
“You’re a good soul, Missus—reckon there’s none I could speak to as I’m speaking to you now. But you mustn’t think high of me—I spoke ill last night; I was like Peter before the Lord let down the sheet on him—calling His creatures common and unclean. I’ve failed as a minister, and I’ve failed as a father—the only thing I haven’t failed as is a blacksmith; thank the Lord I’ve still some credit left at that.”
He hid his face for a moment. Thyrza felt confused ... she scarcely understood.