“‘’Twill maybe l’arn me not to expect too much,’ he says.
“‘I’ll go warrant ’twas a maid what played some trick on ye,’ says Maria, a-turnin’ her head on one side same as an old Poll-parrot.
“‘Maids be tricky things,’ says he; but he didn’t give her no more satisfaction.
“Well, Mrs. Mayne, what was a-sitting on the t’other side o’ the cart, was jist as anxious to pick all she could out of ’en, an’ says she, pokin’ out her head from under the shed:—
“‘I d’ ’low,’ she says, ‘there isn’t many English maids as would fancy the notion of goin’ out abroad to get married. Most English maids,’ says she, ‘likes to settle down near their own folks, an’ not be tolled off amongst strangers.’
“The wold ’ooman had jist knocked the nail on the head. The chap turns round about again wi’ his back to ’em both, an’ the dark look on his face.
“‘Folks are free to please themselves,’ says he, arter a bit, ‘but they should know their own minds. It shouldn’t be “I will” one day and “I won’t” the next.’
“Well, he didn’t seem in the humour to talk much after this, and we did drive on half a mile or so wi’out openin’ our lips, till all at once we came to a turn in the road, and there was a lot o’ folks a-waitin’ for I.
“’Twas Meadway what lives down there in the dip, an’ his wife, an’ three or four of his sons an’ daughters, an’ a couple o’ chaps what works for ’en; they was all gathered round his niece, Tamsine, as was standin’ waiting for I, dressed very nice for travellin’.
“They was makin’ sich a din when I pulled up a body could scarce hear hisself speak.