"He couldn't stop," he said, "in justice to the greenhouses, when missus was so constant down upon him about his sprittual backsliding.

And, after all, where did he backslide?
It was only a pipe of tobacco with the babby in his arms, instead of that darned evening lecture." Poor Mrs.Winterfield! She had been strong in her youth, and had herself sat through evening lectures with a fortitude which other people cannot attain.

And she was strong too in her age, with the strength of a martyr, submitting herself with patience to wearinesses which are insupportable to those who have none of the martyr spirit.
The sermons of Perivale were neither bright, nor eloquent, nor encouraging.

All the old vicar or the young curate could tell she had heard hundreds of times.

She knew it all by heart, and could have preached their sermons to them better than they could preach them to her.