“Up wud her father, surelye. He’s bin easier to-day, but he’s a tedious cross oald man these times. You’d never think the pacerfist and objectious conscience he’s got lying in bed and reading the paapers and wanting things to eat and drink as he can’t git—reckon he’d stop the War to-morrow for a bit of cheese.”
“Kadwell bin here any more?”
“Reckon he never misses—it’ll be Nell’s turn next after Polly. You’d best maake haste, Ivy Beatup, or at the raate we’re going, you’ll be the only oald maid left in the parish.”
“Ha! ha!” laughed Ivy, with her mouth full of bread.
“But Nell ull be a fool if she marries him,” she added seriously. “He aun’t her kind. I know him, and he’s a bit of a swine, I reckon.”
“Reckon he’s a valiant, stout chap, and Nell ull be a fool if she says no.”
Ivy did not argue the matter, but before she went away she made an opportunity to speak to her sister alone.
“Nell, you haven’t promised Steve Kadwell?”
Nell did not answer for a moment—she looked dazed. Then she said slowly:
“Yes—I promised him on Sunday.”