"Which condition is——"
"The consent of you three; the perfect approbation of my whole near connection. I believe that Dus, dear Dus, does love me, and that she would cheerfully give me her hand, were she certain of its being agreeable to you, but that no persuasion of mine will ever induce her so to do under other circumstances."
"This is something, for it shows the girl has principle," answered my father "Why, who goes there?"
"Who went there?" sure enough. There went Frank Malbone and Priscilla Bayard, arm in arm, and so engrossed in conversation that they did not see who were observing them. I dare say they fancied they were in the woods, quite sheltered from curious eyes, and at liberty to saunter about, as much occupied with each other as they pleased; or, what is more probable, that they thought of nothing, just then, but of themselves. They came out of the court, and walked off swiftly into the orchard, appearing to tread on air, and seemingly as happy as the birds that were carolling on the surrounding trees.
"There, sir," I said, significantly—"There, my dear mother, is the proof that Miss Priscilla Bayard will not break her heart on my account."
"This is very extraordinary, indeed!" exclaimed my much disappointed grandmother—"Is not that the young man who we were told acted as Chainbearer's surveyor, Corny?"
"It is, my good mother, and a very proper and agreeable youth he is, as I know by a conversation held with him last night. It is very plain we have all been mistaken"—added the general; "though I do not know that we ought to say that we have any of us been deceived."
"Here comes Kate, with a face which announces that she is fully mistress of the secret," I put in, perceiving my sister coming round our angle of the building, with a countenance which I knew betokened that her mind and heart were full. She joined us, took my arm without speaking, and followed my father, who led his wife and mother to a rude bench that had been placed at the foot of a tree, where we all took seats, each waiting for some other to speak. My grandmother broke the silence.
"Do you see Pris Bayard yonder, walking with that Mr. Frank Chainbearer, or Surveyor, or whatever his name is, Katrinke dear?" asked the good old lady.
"I do, grandmamma," answered the good young lady in a voice so pitched as to be hardly audible.