“Now, Eri,” he protested, “'tain't fair to keep pesterin' me like this. I know I ain't said nothin' to her yit, but I'm goin' to. I had a week, anyhow, and it ain't ha'f over. Land sake!” he burst forth, “d'you s'pose I ain't been thinkin' 'bout it? I ain't thought of nothin' else, hardly. I bet you I've been over the whole thing every night sence we had that talk. I go over it and GO over it. I've thought of more 'n a million ways to ask her, but there ain't one of 'em that suits me. If I was goin' to be hung 'twouldn't be no worse, and now you've got to keep a-naggin'. Let me alone till my time is up, can't you?”
“I wa'n't naggin'. I was jest goin' to tell you that you won't have to ask. I've been talkin' to her myself, and—”
The sacrifice sprang out of his chair.
“Eri Hedge!” he exclaimed indignantly. “I thought you was a friend of mine! I give you my word I'd do it in a week, and the least you could have done, seems to me, would have been to wait and give me the chance. But no! all you think 'bout's yourself. So 'fraid she'd say no and you'd lose your old housekeeper, wa'n't you? The idea! She must think I'm a good one—can't do my own courtin', and have to git somebody to do it for me! What did she say?” he asked suddenly.
“She said yes to what I asked her,” was the reply with a half smile.
Upon Captain Jerry's face settled the look of one who accepts the melancholy inevitable. He sat down again.
“I s'posed she would,” he said with a sigh. “She's known me for quite a spell now, and she's had a chance to see what kind of a man I be. Well, what else did you do? Ain't settled the weddin' day, have you?” This with marked sarcasm.
“Not yit. Jerry, you've made a mistake. I didn't ask her for you.”
“Didn't ask her—didn't—What are you talkin' 'bout, then?”
“I asked her for myself. She's goin' to marry me.”