“No, I have not promised. I asked a month to consider.
“I also wish to learn about his family and his business. I believe that he loves me, and I believe that I could love him. He is so handsome, and a perfect gentleman,” continued Mollie.
“Very true, my dear Mollie. I know that he loves you. He may be very rich too, but you must know all about his business. He has been in Philadelphia less than a year. He was introduced by Benjamin Franklin, but his business is unsettled. Privateering is very precarious,” argued Segwuna.
“Now, my dear Mollie, Segwuna’s life is devoted to yours. Promise me just one thing. Do not give your consent until Segwuna returns. If you promise him in this moon, your life may be unhappy. Wait until the next moon and everything will be clear.”
“I believe that your advice is good. I must be certain that he loves me and that I could make him happy, before I consent. Because, when I once promise, my lot is cast,” reasoned Mollie, as Segwuna kissed her, and walked sprightly down the avenue of hemlocks.
Mollie was resigned to wait. The wisdom of the Quaker character was sufficiently grounded in her to cause her to be sure of her step before she made one, and there were so many things to be considered before she could promise.
Segwuna looked a perfect picture of nobility of character this evening, when she left Mollie at Dorminghurst. Her tall, lithe figure and elastic step, her dark hair hanging in a braid upon her back, her long, oval face, firm mouth, deep-set eyes, aquiline nose, bare head and olive complexion combined to produce a distinguished presence. Her dress consisted of a tunic of buckskin, a short skirt, leggings and moccasins of the same material. She wore no ornaments and the only thing that encumbered her on her journey was a bag or knapsack made of fine buckskin suspended on her back by means of a strap over her shoulders and breast.