“And why not?”
“Ye maun to force me into a confession. Well, so be it. I am already a mother.”
“What if ee be? Don’t ee think I ha’ considered all that. He who be dead and gone did ee a wrong, and it appears to me that ye are not the only woman as he wronged, for there’s——”
“I know what you are going to say,” she said, interrupting him, but, if you care about me, don’t ee say a word agen Master Philip, ’cause I can’t bear that. Whatever his faults may have bin, it ain’t right and proper to be a-talkin’ about em now. He was wayward and wilful, and did not take heed of timely warning, but he be dead and gone; he met with a cruel death, and so say no more about ’im.”
“You are right—I will not refer to the subject again, seeing as how it be a trouble to ee; but it doesn’t follow that, because in a foolish hour you forgot all but your love for him, that ye’re no fit to be my wife, and I say agen you must find some better excuse.”
“I should not like to ha’ a husband taunt me wi’ the shame that has fallen on me. I should no like that.”
“And do you think, you foolish lass, that I am likely to do so? You ought to know me better—a deal better nor that there.”
“Are you in earnest, Joe?”
“Earnest! Dall it, I never was so much in earnest—no not in the whole course of my life.”
“And you mean what you say?”