"I haven't made any," said Thirza, as he paused.
"Oh—ye haint? Well, ye know I've been a-workin' on't on shares fur yer aunt Abigail, goin' on five year, an' I'm ready ter dew the same fur you; that is——" and here Mr. Stebbins hitched a little nearer, while a smile, which displayed not only all his teeth, but no little gum as well, spread itself over his bucolic features, "that is, if we can't make no other arrangements more pleasin'."
There was no mistaking his intentions now; they spoke from every feature of his shrewdly smiling countenance, from his agitated knees and elbows, and from the uneasy hands and feet which seemed struggling to detach themselves from their lank continuations and abscond then and there.
Thirza looked her wooer calmly in the face. Her imperturbability embarrassed but did not dishearten him.
"Thar ain't no use in foolin' round the stump!" he continued. "I might jest as well come out with it, plain an' squar! I'm ready an' willin' to take the hull farm off yer hands if you're agreeable. You jest marry me, Thirzy, an' that settles the hull question slick as a whistle!" and Mr. Stebbins settled back in his chair with a look as if he had just elucidated a long-mooted problem in social science.
Thirza rose: there was a little red spot on each cheek, and an unwonted sparkle in her soft eyes; but her manner was otherwise unruffled as she answered:
"You are really very kind, Mr. Stebbins, but I think I shall find some other way out of the dilemma. I couldn't think of troubling you."
"Oh——" he stammered, "'tain't—no trouble—at all!"
But Thirza was gone.
For a moment Mr. Stebbins doubted his identity. He stared blankly at the open door awhile, and then his eyes wandered vacantly over the carpet and wall, finally coming to rest upon the toes of his substantial boots. He sat for some time thus, repeating Thirza's words as nearly as he could recall them, endeavoring to extract the pith of meaning from the surrounding fibres of polite language. Had she actually refused him? Mr. Stebbins, by a long and circuitous mental process, arrived at length at the conclusion that she had, and accordingly rose, walked out of the front door and down the narrow path, in a state of mind best known to rejected suitors. As he closed the gate he cast one sheepish look toward the house.