“Phœbe, I’ve acted terr’ble bad to ye.”
“E-es, you have,” replied Phœbe succinctly.
“I d’ ’low I have,” he agreed dejectedly. “I be pure sorry, dalled if I bain’t.”
Miss Cosser snorted.
“I’ve a-repented, my dear, ever since. E-es, I have! Sure I have! Phœbe!”
“Well?”
“I’ve a-been thinkin’—would ye go to church wi’ me now?”
“This minute?” queried Phœbe with alacrity; the muscles of her face relaxed, and she twitched down first one of her rolled-up sleeves and then the other.
“E-es, this very minute; the Reverend ’ull tie us up right enough if I ax en.”
“Gie me a clean apron!” cried Phœbe, turning quickly to Mary Ann and jerking at the string of the very damp garment which protected her dress.