"I have spoken to Andrew," he said, "and he will take time to consider. But he did not say aught against Rachel, and he certainly hath no other fancy. I am thankful my brother's daughter is a mere child, since he shows such fondness for her, and thou wert wise, wife, in not having her here. She would have been an unmanageable firebrand, since we could not control her wholly. And I have good hopes for Rachel. We will not delay when the matter is settled, but have them man and wife speedily. Marriage is a cure for many wayward notions."
Rachel had come downstairs in her list boots, that she was fond of wearing indoors, and could make herself. The door was ajar and she had heard all her uncle said. Her heart beat exultantly, and she crept back again softly, with a flush on her face and a pleased light in her eye. For she was very much in love with Andrew, though she did not call her preference by that name. She would give him decorous opportunities to speak.
But he went away and left her sitting alone by the fireside, and poured over John Milton in his cold room. And if she went out to the barn at meal time he made some excuse for not walking back with her.
"Dost thou know," she asked of Penn one day, "where Andrew goes in these curious absences? His father is troubled, but he will not say a word."
"He went, one day, across the river to Swede's Ford. It was about some wood," he said. "And he hath a friend on the Lancaster road. Now that I think, I am afraid there is mischief in it. He hath a soft spot for the rebels at Valley Forge. But he always brings home money for what he hath sold."
"Uncle James hath spoken to him about marrying."
"Marrying! Whom, pray?"
Rachel flushed swarthily.
"If thy eyes were keen thou couldst have seen what they both desire. I shall marry him ere long. It will be a good thing for all of us, and no change of home."
Penn simply stared his amazement.