"Why, Miss Raeburn," he said, "here's a grand surprise."
"Have you had your tea?" the hostess inquired.
"Ess, had tea an hour ago or more. Dirty weather, 'tis, sure enough."
He had followed her into the parlor as he spoke, and in the gray gloom he seemed to her gigantic and like rock immovable.
"Finished your business?" she asked, oppressed by the silence which succeeded his entrance.
"Ess, this right of way is settled for good or bad, according to which one's happy. And now I've got nothing to do but wait for your answer."
The lamplighter's click and dying footfall left the room in a ghostly radiance, and the pallid illumination streaming through the lace curtains threw their reflection on the walls and table in a filigree of shadows.
"I'll light the gas," said Jenny.
"No, don't; but hark to what I do say. I'm regular burnt up for love of 'ee. My heart is like lead so heavy for the long waiting. Why won't 'ee marry me, my lovely? ’Tis a proper madness of love and no mistake. Maid Jenny, what's your answer?"
"All right. I will marry you," she said coldly. "And now let me turn on the gas."