The sentimental side of Droop's plan first monopolized Phœbe's attention.
"Rebecca Wise!" she exclaimed, turning with mock severity to face her sister. "Why is it I've never heard tell about this love affair before now? Why, Joe Chandler's just a fine man. Is it you that broke his heart an' made him an old bachelor all his life?"
Rebecca must have dropped a stitch, for she turned toward the window again and brought her knitting very close to her face.
"What brought ye so early to home, Phœbe?" she said. "Warn't there no Shakespeare meetin' to-day?"
"No. Mis' Beecher was to lead, an' she's been taken sick, so I came right home. But you can't sneak out of answerin' me like that, Miss Slyboots," Phœbe continued, in high spirits.
Seating herself on the arm of her sister's chair, she put her arms about her neck and, bending over, whispered:
"Tell me honest, now, Rebecca, did Joe Chandler ever propose to you?"
"No, he never did!" the elder sister exclaimed, rising suddenly.
"Now, Mr. Droop," she continued, "your hull plan is jest too absurd to think of——"
Droop tried to expostulate, but she raised her voice, speaking more quickly.