“I’m fain to hear ye say there’s no other man, my wench,” he said, “but p’r’aps somebody ’ull coom.”
“What d’ye mean?”
“Somebody ’ull begin coortin’ ye afore long,” he returned with conviction; “it might just as well be me as another. If there’s nobody else, why not me?”
Rebecca now rose to her feet.
“I don’t want anybody,” she said.
“Somebody ’ull coom,” reiterated Robert, “an’ why not me? Coom, my lass, I ax ye straight. Will ye give me the first chance? Honest now! I like ye very well, an’ I doubt I’ll soon like ye better. ’Tisn’t in nature as a lass same as you can be for ever thinkin’ of a chap as has showed no more feelin’ nor your chap has. Ye must tak’ another soon or late. Tak’ me—ye’ll not rue it.”
“I can’t settle to do such a thing all in a hurry,” cried Rebecca petulantly. “I’ve never set eyes on you before.”
“Nor me on you,” returned Robert, “but I feel as if I could like ye very well. Give me first chance—I don’t ax for nought else. Let’s walk a bit an’ see how we get on; but you must give me your word not to take up wi’ nobody else while I’m on trial.”
“Oh, I can do that,” said she, and suddenly began to laugh. The little white teeth which had already called forth Robert’s admiration, showed bewitchingly; a dimple peeped out near the lip, another in the chin.
Robert gazed at her rapturously. “I like ye very well. Eh, my word, that I do! ’Tis a bargain—a proper bargain!”