“Why, I would be the laughing stock of the Colony if I plighted my troth in this,” responded Lucille. “We must wait until I can get some new garments.”
“From where?”
Then we both laughed, for, between us we had not so much as a shilling, I having spent my last on my journey. The laugh did us good, and we felt brighter after it.
While we were talking Captain Carteret passed. He was not going to stop, but I called to him.
“What now?” he asked.
“We were talking of the future, Lucille and I. We are betrothed, as you know, Carteret, and I have just urged her to come with me to the dominie’s.”
“Surely,” he exclaimed. “That would be fine. We could trim up the block house, and have a regular wedding feast. Mistress Carteret would be glad to help, for there has been very little merrymaking, of late, and a wedding would be the very thing to take the gloom away. When can it be? Next week, or the week after.”
“Next week!” cried Lucille, with such an accent of horror in her voice that Carteret and I had to laugh.
“Why, you see, Captain,” I went on, never heeding Lucille’s sly punches in my ribs, “she says she has no clothes; a woman’s ever ready excuse. Her gowns were left behind in Salem town. She will not be wed in the garments which were drenched by the sea. So, I fear, we must wait until I can raise a few pounds, and then----”
But Lucille, with a reproachful glance at me, ran away, leaving the Captain and I alone.