“But if she don’t know, wouldn’t it be obtainin’ her under false pretenses if she said yes?”
“Not exactaly the way I look at it, fur you’ve got more motives fur marryin’ than one.”
“What! Explain yoreself, Silas; explain yoreself.”
“I mean you want to do her good as well as subdue your own sperit.”
“Oh, yes, that’s so.”
“Now, no woman wants to know at first that she’s a vexation to a man’s sperit. It sounds scriptual, but it don’t sound nooptial. Now look at me an’ Mis’ Bollender. I never told her until we’d been married more’n six months; but she didn’t believe it then, an’ she won’t believe it till this day.”
“Wall, I’ll agree not to tell her right away, but if she consents, I must tell her a week or so after we are married. It’ll ease my conscience. Ef I could tell her now, it ’ud be a heap easier in gittin’ round the question. I don’t know jest how to do it without.”
“Oh, you won’t have no trouble in makin’ her understand. Matrimony’s a subject that women air mighty keen on. They can see if a man’s a-poppin’ the question ef he only half tries. You’ll git through all right.”
Somewhat strengthened, Nathan left his friend and sought the widow’s home. He found her stitching away merrily under the light of a coal-oil lamp with a red shade.
“La, Nathan, who’d a’ expected to see you up here? You’ve got to be such a home body that no one don’t look to see you out of yore own field and garden.”