“Yes, my dear; but I don’t believe you’d do it as well as I could, and you know I never let the soap get in your eyes. And when, sir, Morgan comes to me, and he asks me if I’d got the heart to let you both go out into the wilderness like that without a soul to look after you, and tells me as it was my dooty to marry him, and go out and look after the housekeeping for you both, while he did the garden, what could I say?”
Poor Sarah paused quite out of breath.
“Say?” said my father, smiling, but looking very much moved. “You could only say yes, like the good, true-hearted woman you are.”
“Oh, sir!” exclaimed Sarah.
“You have both relieved me of a great deal of care and anxiety by your faithful, friendly conduct,” continued my father, “for it will make what I am going to seek in the wilderness quite a home at once. It is not the wilderness you think, for I know on very good authority that the place where we are going is a very beautiful and fertile country.”
“Can’t come up to Wales,” said Morgan, shaking his head.
“Perhaps not,” said my father, smiling; “but very beautiful all the same. I ought to warn you both, though, while there is time to draw back, that the land is entirely new.”
“What, wasn’t it made with the rest of the world, sir?” said Morgan, staring.
“Yes, of course,” said my father; “but I mean it has never been inhabited more than by a few Indians, who passed through it when hunting. No houses; not so much as a road.”
“Then there won’t be no taverns, Sarah,” said Morgan, giving her a nudge.