"Jane, and all the lasses."
"You simple man, they want you for themselves; that is why they belie me."
"Nay, nay; I saw how you carried on, when I brought word he was gone. You let your heart out for once. Don't take me for a fool: I see how 'tis: but I'll face it: for I worship the ground you walk on. Take a thought, my lass. What good can come of your setting your heart on him? I'm young, I'm healthy, and not ugly enough to set the dogs a barking: I've got a good place; I love you dear; I'll cure you of that fancy, and make you as happy as the day is long. I'll try and make you as happy as you will make me, my beauty."
He was so earnest, and so much in love, that Mrs. Ryder pitied him, and wished her husband was in Heaven.
"I am very sorry, Tom," said she, softly: "dear me, I did not think you cared so much for me as this. I must just tell you the truth. I have got one in my own country, and I've promised him. I don't care to break my word: and, if I did, he is such a man, I am sure he would kill me for it. Indeed he has told me as much, more than once or twice."
"Killing is a game that two can play at."
"Ah! but 'tis an ugly game: and I'll have no hand in it. And—don't you be angry with me, Tom—I've known him longest, and—I love him best."
By pertinacity and variety in lying, she hit the mark at last. Tom swallowed this figment whole.
"That is but reason," said he. "I take my answer, and I wish ye both many happy days together, and well spent."
With this he retired, and blubbered a good hour in an outhouse.