“I’ve never had any flowers from him.”
“No. They all get lost in the post,” said William without turning a hair. “But he’s dyin’ slow of love for you. He’s gettin’ thinner an’ thinner. ’F you don’t be engaged to him soon he’ll be stone dead. He’ll die of love like what they do in tales an’ then you’ll probably get hung for murder.”
“Good heavens!” said Miss Dexter.
“Well, I hope you won’t,” said William kindly, “an’ I’ll do all I can to save you if you are but ’f you kill Robert with not gettin’ engaged to him prob’ly you will be.”
“Does he know you’ve come to ask me?” said Miss Dexter.
“No. I want it to be a s’prise to him,” said William.
“It will be that,” murmured Miss Dexter.
“You will marry him, then?” said William hopefully.
“Certainly—if he wants me to.”
“P’raps,” said William after a slight pause, “you’d better write it in a letter ’cause he’d like as not, not b’lieve me.”