g into words.

"Didst now?" asked Fuller, unctuously enjoying the young man's
discomfort. "What might it ha' been about?"

"I wrote to ask her if she would marry me," said Reuben, with desperate
simplicity.

"Ah!" said Fuller. "And what says her to that?"

"I can't believe that I have had her answer," returned Reuben, with much
embarrassment. "I found a letter in the book, but I think--I am sure--it
is not meant for me."

"You'll find Ruth i' the gardin," said Fuller, puzzled in his turn.
"Her'll tell you, mayhap. But wait a bit; her's rare an' wroth this
mornin', and I ain't sure as it's safe to be anigh her. Miss Blythe's
been here this mornin'--Aunt Rachel, as the wench has allays called her,
though her's no more than her mother's second cousin--and it seems as
th' old creetur found out about Ruth's letter, and went and took it
from wheer it was and marched it off. Her was here this mornin' t' ask
me to open it and read it along with her. Theer's no tekin' note of her,
Reuben, poor old ooman. Her's got a hive in her head. 'Do you know this
young man's character' her says. 'Why, yis,' I says; 'it'd be odd if I
didn't,' I says. 'Well,' her says, 'he's a villin.' 'Rubbidge,' says I;
'theer's no moor esteemable feller i' the parish,' I says, 'onless it's
his uncle Ezra.' Then her fires up and her says, 'His uncle Ezra is
a villin.' Then I bust out a-laughin' in her face. Her's flighty, you
know, lad, her's uncommon flighty. Six-and-twenty year ago--it was afore
thee couldst toddle--her left the parish because of Ezra."

"Because of my uncle?" There were so many things to be amazed at in this
speech of Fuller's that the youngster hardly knew which to be surprised
at most.

"Didst never hear o' that?" asked Fuller. "It's been the talk o' the
parish ever sence her come back to live in it. Your uncle used to be a
good deal at her mother's house from thirty to six-and-twenty 'ear ago,
and used to tek his fiddle theer and gie 'em a taste o' music now
and then. Her seems to ha' let it tek root in her poor head as he was
squirin' her and mekin' up to her for marriage; but after four or five
year her got tired and hopeless, I reckon, and went away. Then I expect
her begun to brood a bit, after the mode of a woman as is lonely, and
has got no such thing as a man around her, and that's how it is, lad."

"My uncle!" Reuben fell to pacing up and down the room, talking aloud,
but as if he addressed himself rather than his swe