"She's paid Sam Cotting fer this courtin' suit, an' he won't take back
the gloves on no 'count arter they've been wore; an' thet'll set ma
crazy. Miss Patsy, ef yo' think ye could----"
"I'm sure I couldn't," said Patsy, promptly. "I'm awfully sorry to break
your heart, Skim, dear, and ruin your future life, and make you
misanthropic and cynical, and spoil your mother's investment and make
her mad as a hornet. All this grieves me terribly; but I'll recover from
it, if you'll only give me time. And I hope you'll find a wife that will
be more congenial than I could ever be."
Skim didn't understand all these words, but the general tenor of the
speech was convincing, and filled him with dismay.
"Rich gals is tarnal skeerce in these parts," he said, regretfully.
Then they gave way again, and so lusty was the merriment that Uncle John
and the Major abandoned their game and came across the room to discover
the source of all this amusement.
"What's up, young women?" asked their Uncle, glancing from their
laughing faces to the lowering, sullen one of the boy, who had only now
begun to suspect that he was being "poked fun at."
"Oh, Uncle!" cried Patsy; "you've no idea how near you have been to
losing us. We have each had an offer of marriage within the last
half hour!"
"Dear me!" ejaculated Uncle John.
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