"Oh, no, Miss."
"Susan, I won't be trifled with. Either you encouraged him or you didn't. Which was it? You surely don't expect me to believe that, after he'd asked you, he was content to walk away again without any kind of an answer?"
"Please, Miss, he didn't ask me that way. It was in a letter."
"A letter! Susan, I hope you've said 'No.' Have nothing at all to do with him. A letter, indeed! Why didn't he speak out like a man to your face?"
"Please, Miss, he couldn't."
"Couldn't? Why not?"
"Because I've never seen him."
I burst out laughing. The affair was a trifle after all. At the most and worst it was some village moon-calf's clumsy wooing; at the least (and likeliest) it was a practical joke. But Susan thought otherwise. I stopped laughing at the sight of her proud flush and pain.
"Come, Susan," I coaxed, "be a sensible girl. It's some stupid joke."
"No, Miss," said Susan firmly.