To the left, on the knoll below, rose the chimneys of the Barton farm-house, over the round tops of the apple-trees, and in the nearest field Mr. Alfred's Maryland cattle were fattening on the second growth of clover.
“A nice place, Martha!” said Dr. Deane, with a wave of his arm, and a whiff of sweet herbs.
“Here, in this first field, is the true place for the house,” she answered, thinking only of the landscape beauty of the farm.
“Does thee mean so?” the Doctor eagerly asked, deliberating with himself how much of his plan it was safe to reveal. “Thee may be right, and perhaps thee might bring Alfred to thy way of thinking.”
She laughed. “It's hardly worth the trouble.”
“I've noticed, of late,” her father continued, “that Alfred seems to set a good deal of store by thee. He visits us pretty often.”
“Why, father!” she exclaimed, as they, rode onward, “it's rather thee that attracts him, and cattle, and crops, and the plans for catching Sandy Flash! He looks frightened whenever I speak to him.”
“A little nervous, perhaps. Young men are often so, in the company of young women, I've observed.”
Martha laughed so cheerily that her father said to himself: “Well, it doesn't displease her, at any rate.” On the other hand, is was possible that she might have failed to see Barton in the light of a wooer, and therefore a further hint would be required.
“Now that we happen to speak of him, Martha,” he said, “I might as well tell thee that, in my judgment, he seems to be drawn towards thee in the way of marriage. He may be a little awkward in showing it, but that's a common case. When he was at our house, last First-day, he spoke of thee frequently, and said that he would like to—well, to see thee soon. I believe he intends coming up this afternoon.”