“Well, lad,” said his uncle, when to the young man the continued stillness had grown almost ponderous. The seconds had seemed to drop one by one upon him from the audible ticking of the old clock in the next room, each with an increasing weight of embarrassed sympathy.
“Well, uncle?” returned Reuben, trying to speak in his ordinary way, and only succeeding in sounding shamefully flippant and unsympathetic to his own ears.
“I've a mind to have a talk with you,” said Ezra. “Is the door shut?”
Reuben rose to see, and murmuring that it was closed, resumed his seat. He waited a while in expectation that his uncle was about to confide in him.
“When beest going to make up your mind to pluck up a courage and speak to Ruth?” the old man asked.
“To Ruth, sir?” returned Reuben. The question staggered him a little.
“To Ruth,” said Ezra.
“I have spoken,” answered Reuben. “We are going to be married.”
“That's well,” the old man said, mildly. “But I looked to be told of any such thing happening. Thee and me, lad, are all as is left o' th' old stock i' this part o' the world.”
“Don't think I should have kept you ignorant of it,” said Reuben. “I only knew this morning. I have not seen you since till now.”