"Is thee waiting for father?" she asked.
"Nay," said I.
I think she grew more restive under the silence: I arose. "Farewell," said I.
"Farewell," said she; and the dints in her cheeks were extreme: they were the only dints about her, everything else being so prim and gray and well-ordered, while these were—quite different.
Her father came in just then. I went boldly to him. "Friend Hicks," I said very loud, "will thee ask thy daughter to marry me?"
"Can thee not ask?"
"Nay: I have tried, but I fail. I never asked such a thing before, and, belike, thee has."
"Necessarily," said he.
Then he asked Barbara. "Does thee quite approve friend Biddle?" asked she.
"Necessarily," he answered as before.