But he had plenty, and poor Smith had often said that he needed somebody to help him to be good.

And she would cleave to him forever and help him.

Mother and father thought she was right, and she couldn't anyway let Smith drown himself.

How could she?
That would be the same as murdering him, you know.
During the fortnight that Charlton and his sister visited in Glenfield, Albert divided his time between trying to impress Katy with the general unfitness of Smith Westcott to be her husband, and the more congenial employment of writing long letters to Miss Helen Minorkey, and receiving long letters from that lady.

His were fervent and enthusiastic; they explained in a rather vehement style all the schemes that filled his brain for working out his vocation and helping the world to its goal: while hers discussed everything in the most dispassionate temper.