Oh, I gathered, from things I heard, that you cared more about dancin' than about prayin', up there.
She turns away.
That young fellow that was so sweet on you in St. Louis year before last, he wa'n't much in the psalm-singin' line, was he?
Rhoda.
Startled and pale.
Who told you about him?
Beeler.
Oh, Mary's friends, the Higginses, used to write us about your affairs. We thought it would be a hitch-up, sure as shootin'. Studyin' to be a doctor, wasn't he?
Rhoda.
Uncle, please never speak to me about him again!