“Will you give her to me, Mrs. Kennedy?” said Parker, watching the two.
“Ay, lad; she’s given herself, I see, and it’s not my hand that would separate you.”
“I shall live your next neighbor,” said Agnes, lifting her head.
“Ah, my wean, so soon to be thinking of that,” her mother answered sadly.
“I am going to find Mr. Kennedy,” Parker told them, and he went out leaving the girl with her mother, to pour out her tale of happiness and to tell of Polly’s gossip.
“So, mother dear,” the girl said, laughing, “I am very fortunate, you see, for, as Polly says, I shall not be ‘left settin’, and though you will not have the honor of being the mother-in-law to a meenister, you’ll have me near you always and I shall have you, which to my mind is much better.”
Presently the men folks came tramping in—Fergus Kennedy, Sandy, Parker Willett, and Carter.
“What’s this I hear, you sly puss?” said Carter, making a dash for Agnes, and taking her hands to shake them heartily.
She laughed confusedly, but she held up her head, for she had no cause for shame. “How dared you tell that I was going to be married, you naughty lad?” she asked.
“Well, aren’t you?” returned Carter, impudently. “However,” when the laugh had subsided he went on, “I was thinking about that time that I’d marry you myself, but I’ve concluded to wait for Margret,” which in very truth he did. “Are you going to turn me out, Cousin Park?” he asked ruefully.