“I fear ’t will come to that.”
“Well, well, Patty, perhaps it will,” acceded the squire. “But since ’t is settled already by foreordination, let the lass have a good time before it comes. Wouldst rather marry the parson than Phil, Janice?”
“I don ’t want to marry any one,” cried the girl, beginning to sob.
“A stiff-necked child thou art,” said her mother, sternly. “Dost hear me?”
“Yes, mommy,” responded a woful voice.
“And dost intend to be obedient?”
“Yes, mommy,” sobbed the girl.
“Then if thee’ll not give her to the parson, Lambert, ’t is best that she marry Philemon. She needs a husband to rule and chasten her.”
“Then ’t is a bargain, Hennion,” said Mr. Meredith, offering a hand each to father and son.
“Yer see, Phil, it ’s ez I told yer,” cried the elder. “Naow hev dun with yer stand-offishness an’ buss the gal. Thet ’ere is the way ter please them.”