We pledged our word, and left her.
* * * * *
"Gloriana's dun days must soon come to an end," said Ajax to me upon the eve of the wedding.
"Why shouldn't she marry Uncle Jake? The old chap wants her. He informed me this afternoon that a double team travelled farther than a single horse. And he hangs about the kitchen door all the time, and divides Gloriana's favours with the pig."
"Tell him to propose."
"I'll have to do it for him," replied my brother. "Uncle Jake has not the gift of tongues."
We accompanied Gloriana to San Lorenzo; as we feared to trust our friend--for so we had come to regard her--with the mule, a mischievous beast, spoiled by prosperity. Ajax drove a skittish pair of colts. Gloriana and I occupied the back seat of our big spring wagon.
"My brother is not Uncle Jake," said Ajax, as soon as the colts had settled down to business, "but he'll tell you all the pretty things the old man says about you."
"Uncle Jake is puffectly rediclous," replied Gloriana gaily. "His love is cupboard love."
"He has mired down at last."