“Well, Annie, she is my only sister, and she is varry like my mother. I must give her an hour. I could not be happy if I did not;” and there was something in the tone of his voice which Annie knew she need not try to alter. So she wisely acquiesced in his resolve, pitying him the while for having the claims of three women to satisfy. But the squire went cheerfully enough to his sister. The claims of kindred were near and dear to him and a very sincere affection existed between him and his sister Jo-sepha. She was waiting for him. She was resolved to have a talk with him about the Bradleys, and she had a proposal to make, a proposal on which she had set her heart.
So she met him at the open door, and said—with a tight clasp of his big hand—“I am right glad to see thee, brother. Come in here,” and she led him to a small parlor used exclusively by herself.
“I cannot stop to dinner, Josey,” he said kindly, but he kept her hand in his hand, until he reached the chair his sister pointed out. Then she sat down beside him and said, “Antony, my dear brother, thou must answer me a few questions. If thou went home and left me in doubt, I should be a varry unhappy woman.”
“Whativer art thou bothering thysen about?”
“About thee. I’ll speak out plain and thou must answer me in the same fashion. What is tha going to do about thy living? Thou hes no business left, and I know well thou hes spent lavishly iver since thou came here with thy wife and daughter.”
“To be sure I hev. And they are varry welcome to ivery penny of the outlay. And I must say, Josey, thou has been more extravagant about both Annie and Kitty than I hev been.”
“Well then Kitty is such a darling—thou knows.”
“Ay, she is that.”
“And Annie is more tolerant with me than she iver was before.”
“To be sure. Iveryone gets more kindly as he grows older. And she knaws thee better, which is a great deal. Annie is good from the beginning to the end.”