“When are you marrying?” he asked in reply.
“I don’t know,” she said, coming to a full stop.
“Then I don’t know,” he said, taking a large wedge of cheese and biting a piece from it.
“It was fixed for June,” she said, recovering herself at his suggestion of hope.
“July!” said Emily.
“Father!” said he, holding the piece of cheese up before him as he spoke—he was evidently nervous: “Would you advise me to marry Meg?”
His father started, and said:
“Why, was you thinking of doing?”
“Yes—all things considered.”
“Well—if she suits you——”