an.
Her answer, "Nothing but good." "How came she to know him at all?" . . .
Silent; then makes Answer, "Has seen him at Mrs. _French's_ and
elsewhere." "Where else?" "Why, at Church, and other Places." Mother
here puts in, "What other Places?" . . . "Sure what can it signify,"
_Anne_ asks, turning short round upon her; "and especially to you, who
would be glad to get quit of me on any Terms?"

"_Anne, Anne_!" interrupts Father, "does this Concern of ours for you
look like it? You know you are saying what is uncivil and untrue."

"Well," resumes _Anne_, her breath coming quick, "but what's the
Objection to _John Herring_?"

"_John_? is he _John_ with you already?" cries Mother. "Then you must
know more of him than you say."

"Sure, Mother," cries _Anne_, bursting into Tears, "you are enough to
overcome the Patience of _Job_. I know nothing of the young Man, but
that he is pious, and steady, and well read, and a good Son of reputable
Parents, as well to do in the World as ourselves; and that he likes me,
whom few like, and offers me a quiet, happy Home."

"How fast some People can talk when they like," observes Mother; at which
Allusion to _Anne's_ Impediment, I dart at her a Look of Wrath; but _Nan_
only continues weeping.

"Come hither, Child," interposes Father, holding his Hand towards her;
"and you, good _Betty_, leave us awhile to talk over this without
Interruption." At which, Mother, taking him literally, sweeps up her
Work, and quits the Room. "The Address of this young Man," says Father,
"has taken me wholly by Surprise, and your Encouragement of it has
incontestably had somewhat of clandestine in it; notwithstanding which, I
have, and can have, nothing in View, dear _Nan_, but your Well-being. As
to his Calling, I take no Exceptions at it, even though, like
_Caementarius_, he should say, I am a Bricklayer, and have got my Living
by my Labour--"

"A Master-builder, not a Bricklayer," interposes _Anne_.

Father stopt for a Moment; then resumed. "You talk of his offering you a
quiet Home: why should you be dissatisfied with your own, where, in the
Main, we are all very happy together? In these evil Times, 'tis
something considerable to have, as it were, a little Chamber on the Wall,
where your Candle is lighted by the Lord, your Table spread by him, your
Bed made by him in your Health and Sickness, and where he stands behind
the Door, ready to come in and sup with you. All this you will lea