She still had her high moral sense, inherited from generations of Puritans.

It was now a religious instinct, and she was almost a fanatic with him, because she loved him, or had loved him.

If he sinned, she tortured him.

If he drank, and lied, was often a poltroon, sometimes a knave, she wielded the lash unmercifully.
The pity was, she was too much his opposite.

She could not be content with the little he might be; she would have him the much that he ought to be.