hen I entered upon the porch of friend Hicks's
house, and Barbara was there, and said, "I am pleased to see thee, friend
Biddle," and her father said, "How does thee do?" altogether as though I
had seen them but a day before, it was most agreeable to my mind and
soothing to my spirit. And when, after the dinner was over, before which
there was little chance at conversation, although I thought I detected a
slight pallor in friend Barbara's face where before the dints had been,
and when she had betaken herself to some place out of sight, and friend
Hicks was beginning to talk upon my loss in his suffering a theft on his
premises, I merely said, "Yea, friend Barbara took the money." Thee should
have seen his face: it must have afforded thee considerable amusement.

"Barbara?" he said with much difficulty.

"Yea," I answered. "I know all about it; and she gave it to Richard
Jordan, whom thee thought to frighten me with. He was poor, in need, and
had a wife whom he must care for. I was in the house where his wife was
ever since thee parted with me."

"Samuel Biddle!"

"Verily, friend Hicks. And she was a demented woman, whom her husband had
to take good care of, and she relied upon me for such poor comfort as I
could afford her. She is deceased, and it was myself who sent for her
husband. Maybe there was much secrecy which thy daughter and I kept
without thee, but mayhap we did it for the best. And thee must never
inquire anything more about it; and I regret thee had so much concern, and
thank thee for a most kind and generous friend."

"Samuel Biddle, I deemed that Barbara was not unto thee, nor thee unto
her, as both had been to one another."

"Thee must be at odds with reason, friend Hicks, for I never have cared
less for Barbara than I did at the first."

So I told the narrative to him; and although I strictly adhered to the
facts, I bethink me that had I made them a trifle straighter he might not
have comprehended them as he did. But he came to me as I sat there on the
porch, and he laid his hand on my arm: "I have been overly strict with
Barbara, friend Samuel, and thee must pardon me, for I only kept her for
thee. Thee is a good man; and although some of Barbara's and thy doings in
this matter, as thee has related it, are scarcely in accordance with an
understanding of the world such as I have, and such as thee may hope to
have in time, and most of what thee has done is rather removed from
orthodox, yet I hold