"That is not a question you have any need to ask."
"I asks it though,"—returned Prissy sturdily. "Be you?"
"No."
"Then I wish you'd go and talk to Mr. Purcell, 'cos I don' know nothin' about it. If you was goin' to marry her, stands to reason everything else gives way; folks must get married, if they has a mind to; but if you aint, I don't see into it, and don't see no sense in it. Mr. Purcell's at the barn. I wish you'd just go and talk to him."
"I have had trouble enough to find you," said the gentleman; "I shall not try to find Mr. Purcell. If you wish me to see him, I will wait here till you bring him."
And so saying, Mr. Southwode deposited his hat on the table and himself sat down. Prissy gave him glance after glance, unsatisfied and uneasy. She did long to refer things to Joe; and she saw she could not manage her unwelcome visiter; so finally she took off her apron and threw it over her head and set off on a run for the barn. Meanwhile Rotha came down, all ready for the drive.
"Where are they all?" she exclaimed.
"One gone after the other. I think, Rotha, it will be the pleasantest way for you, to go out at once to the carriage and wait there for me; if you will let me be so discourteous. You may as well escape the discussion I must hold with these people. Where is your luggage?"
"I have only one little trunk, up stairs at the top of the house. The rest of my things are at aunt Busby's."
"We will not ask her for them. I will take care of your box and bring it along. And give me this."