A long soft sigh was the farmer’s only reply for a moment. It was followed by the remark,—
“That city gal, I s’pose,—confound her!”
“I don’t see what you want her confounded for: she hasn’t done anythin’. They don’t correspond.”
“I should hope not,” said Hayn, with considerable vigor: he now was wide awake, “What could they write about? You don’t s’pose Phil could write anythin’ about our goin’s-on that would interest her, do you?”
“No, but young people sometimes do find somethin’ to exchange letters about. You and I didn’t, when we were boy and girl, because we lived within a stone’s throw of each other, an’ you couldn’t keep away from our house after dark; but Philip and——”
“For goodness sake, old lady,” interrupted the husband, “don’t you go to settin’ yourself down, at your time of life, by gettin’ the match-makin’ fever. There isn’t the slightest chance that——”
“I didn’t say there was; but boys will be boys.”
“It doesn’t follow that they should be fools, does it?—not when they’re our boys?”
“ ‘Tisn’t bein’ a fool to be interested in a rich man’s daughter. I’ve often thought how different your life might have been if I’d had anything besides myself to give you when you married me.”
“I got all I expected, and a thousand times more than I deserved.” This assertion was followed by a kiss, which, though delivered in the dark, was of absolutely accurate aim.