rry at all: gone too
far in years, I used t' think, for folly t' flush an' dimple her--she
was goin' on thirty--but as it was, as then I knowed, too much grieved
for waste o' merriment. An' when she'd hugged me, her nurseling, as
she used t' say--an' when she'd noted my stride an' the spread o' my
feet--an' had marked my elderly talk an' praised my growth--I told her
my errand. I plumped it out, without mercy, in the way of a lad; an'
she took it ill, I thought; for breath left her, an' she stared like
death. An' then she begun t' cry--an' then she sobbed that she was
wonderful happy--an' then she dried her poor eyes--an' then she named
Davy Junk an' the good God in one long breath o' love an' thanks--an'
then she smiled. An' after that she put her warm arms around me an'
half hid her sweet motherly face; but yet I could see that she was
flushed an' dimpled, like any young maid o' the place, an' that her
eyes were both merry an' wet. An' I marveled t' learn that youth an'
joy would come back in a flash o' time as soon as love beckoned a
finger.

"'I loves un, Toby!' says she. 'I jus' can't help it.'

"'He've poor timber in his soul,' says I.

"She'd have none o' that! 'Oh no,' says she; 'he jus' needs--me.'

"'A poor stick for looks,' says I.

"'Ah, but,' says she, 'you didn't know un when he was _young_, Toby.'

"'Pst!' says I. 'An' he've kep' you waitin' a long time.'

"'It haven't been hard t' wait,' says she; 'for I jus' _knowed_ he'd
come--when ready.'

"'I'll fetch Skipper Davy this night.'

"'Ay,' says she. 'I'm--wonderful happy.'

"'There'll be guns goin' at a weddin' in Rickity Tickle afore long,'
says I, 'I'll be bound!'

"She laughed like a maid o' sixteen. 'An', ecod!' says she, 'I got a
new muslin all ready t' wear!'

* * * * *

"It rained on Rickity Tickle that night: no lusty downpour--a mean,
sad drizzle o' cold mist. The road t' Gull Island Cove was dark as
death--sodden underfoot an' clammy with wet alder-leaves. Skipper Davy
come with fair courage, laggin' a bit by the way, in the way o'
lovers, thinks I, at such times. An' I'd my hand fair on the knob o'
Mary Land's door--an' was jus' about t' push in--when Skipper Davy all
at once cotched me by the elbow an' pulled me back t' the shadows.

"'Hist!' says he.

"'Ay?'

"'Did you--tell her outright--that I'd _take_ her?'

"'Ay, sure!'

"'No help for it, Tumm?'

"'God's sake!' says I.

"'I--I--I