"Sure-lye!" said her husband, who usually said "ditto," and played second fiddle.
"I'll go and see if Annie is ready," said her mother.
Annie was in the kitchen. Mrs. McKeel was there also, having been obliged to prepare breakfast. She was standing over a tub washing dishes.
"Good morning, Mrs. McKeel," said Mrs. Coonie; "I hope it won't inconvenience you if Annie leaves at once. She is to be married to-day."
"To Lanky?" said Mrs. McKeel.
"Yes! She's the luckiest girl in the world."
Annie began to cry. Alec's accident had brought on qualms of conscience. She had been led into promising to marry Lanky, on the spur of the moment, for the sake of his wealth, believing he was going to die. She could not tell what to do. She was sitting on the middle of a see-saw, and did not know which end to slide to.
"Come, Annie! don't be a fool!" said her mother; "you'll have a carriage to ride in, silks and satins to wear, a fine house; and you'll hobnob with the Governor's Lady."
"Mrs. Coonie," said Mrs. McKeel, "I think you are too hasty. Annie does not know her own mind. Give her time. Max Hicsh and David believe that Lanky has not a penny to bless himself with. Don't you think the account of his wealth is only a made-up affair—a cock-and-bull story?"