"For fourteen guineas, a florin, one groat and three pennies, Jerry!"
The Tinker gulped and stared.
"Lord love you, gal—what d'ye mean?" he questioned.
"'T was all old Azor's doing, Jerry. She gives me to her grandson Joseph for his mort, but I gives Joseph a touch of my little churi and runs away and happens on Peregrine. But she follows me with Jochabed and Bennigo, that I hates more than Joseph, and she was for going to force me to take him could give most money, and Peregrine has most, so she weds me to Peregrine."
"Wed you?" exclaimed the Tinker, blinking.
"Aye, according to the ways o' the Folk—she weds us and leaves us. Then while I was considering about running off from Peregrine and where I should go, Peregrine goes for to run off from me, so then I followed him, of course—and here we are!"
"Lord!" exclaimed the Tinker. "Lord love my eyes an' limbs—here's a pretty kettle o' fish!"
"It is!" nodded Diana. "For now Peregrine wants to marry me according to the ways o' the Church!"
"Hum!" said the Tinker, staring very hard at a piece of pork impaled upon his knife-point. "Ha—marriage, hey, friend Peregrine? Marriage is an oncommon serious business and you are a—leetle young for it, ain't you?"
"I'm nineteen turned!" said I.