"Do, Miss Anthea?"
"The mortgage must be paid off—dreadfully soon—you know that, and—I can't—Oh, I can't give the money back—"
"Why—give it back!—No, a course not, Miss Anthea!"
"But I—can't—keep it!"
"Can't keep it, Miss Anthea mam,—an' why not?"
"Because I'm very sure he doesn't want all those things,—the idea is quite—absurd! And yet,—even if the hops do well, the money they bring will hardly be enough by itself, and so—I was selling my furniture to make it up, and—now—Oh! what am I to do?" and she leaned her head wearily upon her hand.
Now, seeing her distress, Adam all sturdy loyalty that he was, must needs sigh in sympathy, and fell, once more, to twisting his hat until he had fairly wrung it out of all semblance to its kind, twisting and screwing it between his strong hands as though he would fain wring out of it some solution to the problem that so perplexed his mistress. Then, all at once, the frown vanished from his brow, his grip loosened upon his unfortunate hat, and his eye brightened with a sudden gleam.
"Miss Anthea," said he, drawing a step nearer, and lowering his voice mysteriously, "supposing as I was to tell you that 'e did want that furnitur',—ah! an' wanted it bad?"
"Now how can he, Adam? It isn't as though he lived in England," said Anthea, shaking her head, "his home is thousands of miles away,—he is an American, and besides—"
"Ah!—but then—even a American—may get married. Miss Anthea, mam!" said Adam.