This piteous appeal set Jael's wits working. “Eh, father, it will be the first of her bans!”
“Is it me you are asking such a question?” cried Patty, and turned her head away with absurd mock-modesty.
“And so 'tis,” said Dence; “ah, that is a different thing.”
Henry thought that was no reason for Patty's staying at home; she ought rather to go and hear the bans were cried all right.
At this proposal both sisters lifted up their hands, and he was remonstrated with, and lectured, and at last informed that, if a girl was in church when her bans were cried, her children would be all born deaf and dumb.
“Oh, indeed!” said Little, satirically. “That's a fact in natural history I was not aware of. Well, farmer, then let's you and I go by ourselves.”
So Patty stayed at home, in obedience to rural superstition, and Jael stayed to keep her company, and Farmer Dence went to church out of piety; and as for Henry, to tell the truth, he went to church to escape the girls' tongues, and to be in a quiet, somniferous place, where he could think out his plans undisturbed.
The men were no sooner gone than the sisters began to gossip hard.
“Eh, Jael, thou's gotten a prize.”
“Not as I know of.”