"Yes, it has, Mr. Prong;—very much."
"And if so, it may be that you would wish time for consideration before you give me an answer."
"Perhaps that will be best, Mr. Prong."
"Let it be so. On what day shall we say? Will Friday suit you? If I come to you on Friday morning, perhaps Miss Pucker will be there."
"Yes, she will."
"And in the afternoon."
"We shall be at the Dorcas meeting."
"I don't like to trouble you to come here again."
Mrs. Prime herself felt that there was a difficulty. Hitherto she had entertained no objection to calling on Mr. Prong at his own house. His little sitting-room had been as holy ground to her,—almost as part of the church, and she had taken herself there without scruple. But things had now been put on a different footing. It might be that that room would become her own peculiar property, but she could never again regard it in a simply clerical light. It had become as it were a bower of love, and she could not take her steps thither with the express object of assenting to the proposition made to her,—or even with that of dissenting from it. "Perhaps," said she, "you could call at ten on Saturday. Miss Pucker will be out marketing." To this Mr. Prong agreed, and then Mrs. Prime got up and took her leave. How fearfully wicked would Rachel have been in her eyes, had Rachel made an appointment with a young man at some hour and some place in which she might be found alone! But then it is so easy to trust oneself, and so easy also to distrust others.
"Good-morning," said Mrs. Prime; and as she went she gave her hand as a matter of course to her lover.