Susan opened the parlor window.
“What is it, Mr. Meadows?”
“Will you step here, if you please?” Susan came. :Here is a young man tells me I must not call on your father or you.”
“I say you must not do it often enough to make her talked of.”
“Who dares to talk of me?” cried Susan, scarlet.
“Nobody, Miss Merton. Nobody but the young man himself; and so I told him. Is your father within? Then I'll step in and speak with him anyway.” And the sly Meadows vanished to give Susan an opportunity of quarreling with William while she was hot.
“I don't know how you came to take such liberties with me,” began Susan, quite pale now with anger.
“It is for George's sake,” said William doggedly.
“Did George bid you insult my friends and me? I would not put up with it from George himself, much less from you. I shall write to George and ask him whether he wishes me to be your slave.”
“Don't ye do so. Don't set my brother against me,” remonstrated William ruefully.