"Pray, do think better of it," urges Berry.
"Pray, pray, Mrs. Berry!" pleads Lucy.
"—And not leave your old Berry all forlorn just when you're so happy!"
"Indeed I would not, you dear, kind old creature!" Lucy faltered.
Mrs. Berry thought she had her.
"Just when you're going to be the happiest wife on earth—all you want yours!" she pursued the tender strain. "A handsome young gentleman! Love and Fortune smilin' on ye!"—
Lucy rose up.
"Mrs. Berry," she said, "I think we must not lose time in getting ready, or he will be impatient."
Poor Berry surveyed her in abject wonder from the edge of her chair. Dignity and resolve were in the ductile form she had hitherto folded under her wing. In an hour the heroine had risen to the measure of the hero. Without being exactly aware what creature she was dealing with, Berry acknowledged to herself it was not one of the common run, and sighed, and submitted.
"It's like a divorce, that it is!" she sobbed.