At the Farm.
Mrs Lee was a very unimportant-looking little woman; yet she ruled at home even as Martin Lee ruled abroad; and after the supper that night, when Katie had occasion to attend to sundry maternal orders, there was plenty of free open discussion, in which Parson Meadows was invited to join.
“I’ve no objection to you at all, Edward,” said Mrs Lee, “only that you will go away for a twelvemonth at a time; and if we let you have Katie, you will either carry her off, or else be making her a widow till you return again; and that’s why I have set my face against it.”
“Why can’t you settle down here, my lad?” said old Lee, puffing leisurely at his pipe.
“Ay, and plough the land instead of the ocean,” put in Mr Meadows.
“You are all hard upon me,” said Edward, laughing. “Didn’t I give up the navy?”
“Let him alone,” said old Lee; “he’ll come round in time.”
“To be sure,” said Mr Meadows. “And, after all, my young friend, it’s a pleasant patriarchal life you would lead here—at peace with the world, nature smiling upon you, a glorious climate, and sickness a thing hardly known. Truly, yours would be a pleasant prospect. No need here to lock or bar your doors to keep out the thieves who break through and steal. Indeed, I should envy you if I were a young man—young as he who went out.”
“Ah, poor Bray! I’m afraid he’ll be rather nettled about your coming, Ned. I know Katie gave him no encouragement; but the old lady there took a fancy to him; and now she has turned her coat. Fickle ever!”
Just then Katie returned to take her place in the circle, seating herself by Edward Murray, with the innocent air of one who sought protection at the side of the stronger.