of the
interview as follows:--

"Now, Susan, here's this man pretends to say that you've been a courting
and snaring to get his son; and I just want you to tell him that you
hain't never had no thought of him, and that you won't have, neither."

This considerate way of announcing the subject had the effect of
bringing the burning color into Susan's face, as she stood like a
convicted culprit, with her eyes bent on the floor.

Uncle Jaw, savage as he was, was always moved by female loveliness, as
wild beasts are said to be mysteriously swayed by music, and looked on
the beautiful, downcast face with more softening than Miss Silence, who,
provoked that Susan did not immediately respond to the question, seized
her by the arm, and eagerly reiterated,--

"Susan! why don't you speak, child?"

Gathering desperate courage, Susan shook off the hand of Silence, and
straightened herself up with as much dignity as some little flower lifts
up its head when it has been bent down by rain drops.

"Silence," she said, "I never would have come down if I had thought it
was to hear such things as this. Mr. Adams, all I have to say to you is,
that your son has sought me, and not I your son. If you wish to know any
more, he can tell you better than I."

"Well, I vow! she is a pretty gal," said Uncle Jaw, as Susan shut the
door.

This exclamation was involuntary; then recollecting himself, he picked
up his hat, and saying, "Well, I guess I may as well get along hum," he
began to depart; but turning round before he shut the door, he said,
"Miss Silence, if you should conclude to do any thing about that 'ere
fence, just send word over and let me know."

Silence, without deigning any reply, marched up into Susan's little
chamber, where our heroine was treating resolution to a good fit of
crying.

"Susan, I did not think you had been such a fool," said the lady. "I do
want to know, now, if you've railly been thinking of getting married,
and to that Joe Adams of all folks!"

Poor Susan! such an interlude in all her pretty, romantic little dreams
about kindred feelings and a hundred other delightful ideas, that
flutter like singing birds through the fairy land of first love. Such an
interlude! to be called on by gruff human voices to give up all the
cherished secrets that she had trembled to whisper even to herself. She
felt as if love itself had been defiled by the coarse, rough hands that
had been meddling with it; so to her sister