His eyes implored her to read his meaning. No doubt she read it correctly, for her face flushed, her eyelids fell, and she barely murmured, “Yes, Jacob.”
“Then I'll come!” he cried; “I'll come and help you with the oats. Don't talk of pay! Only tell me I'll be welcome! Susan, don't you believe I'll keep my word?”
“I do indeed,” said she, looking him firmly in the face.
That was all that was said at the time; but the two understood each other tolerably well.
On the afternoon of the second day, Jacob saw again the lonely house of his father. His journey was made, yet, if any of the neighbors had seen him, they would never have believed that he had come back rich.
Samuel Flint turned away to hide a peculiar smile when he saw his son; but little was said until late that evening, after Harry and Sally had left. Then he required and received an exact account of Jacob's experience during his absence. After hearing the story to the end, he said, “And so you love this Susan Meadows?”
“I'd—I'd do any thing to be with her.”
“Are you afraid of her?”
“No!” Jacob uttered the word so emphatically that it rang through the house.
“Ah, well!” said the old man, lifting his eyes, and speaking in the air, “all the harm may be mended yet. But there must be another test.” Then he was silent for some time.