“My——” began Miss Claire, and stared at her wid round eyes. Suddintly, she saised hauld of the widder’s hand and ses she wid excitement:
“You don’t mean——”
The widder nodded, the teers cuming into her eyes.
“But—but he’s a confirmed old bacheller” ses Miss Claire.
“Is he?” ses the widder. “Well all good things cum to an end. However John and I are beside the quiston. I merely told you as an excuse for seeming to pry into you sacred affares. Give me a kiss now and poar out your hart and sole into me sympythetic eers.”
Then they kissed and the widder pushed Miss Claire into a chare, and set down hersilf. Befure the girl can spake she ses hersilf crossly:
“Now will you tell me why you were such a little goose as to let Harry Dudley slip throo your fingers? My deer” ses she interrupting Miss Claire as she started in to spake. “The boy was mad—clane daft about you. Now ansser me this you notty girl, why didnt you take him?”
“I did—that is——” began Miss Claire, whin the widder grabbed her hand and looked at the ring.
“Aha!” ses she “cort you thin, did’nt I? Now” ses she “whare were your sinses under the sarcumstunses whin you let him go away at wanse—and of all things in the warld wid Una Robbins.”
“Wid her!” ses Miss Claire.