A. What do you mean, aw, by such a fawlshood? (Attempts to strike Cal. with his cane, but Cal. leaps behind a chair, which he lifts, and uses as a protection. Enter Car.)
Car. Why, what’s the matter?
Cal. Nothing, only Mr. Fitz has been telling me who his sweetheart is, and he don’t like it ’cause I won’t promise not to tell anybody.
Car. You’d better go out in the kitchen, and finish your work. I’m in a hurry for the apples.
(Exit, Cal., R. Car. sits down, C.)
A. You must be tired, aw, with your labors.
Car. Oh no, indeed; but I am waiting for that lazy Caleb to finish the apples, so I can be making my pies.
A. (deliberately spreading his handkerchief upon the floor before her, and kneeling upon it). Miss Leland—Carwy, I have long sought, aw, this opportunity to confess, aw, my love for you. Do not deny me, aw, and doom me to dwead despair.
(A sound of approaching footsteps is heard.)
Car. (hurriedly). Mr. Fitz-William, rise, I beseech you.