"There, there!" said he, smiling and sighing; "that will do. Why, I do
believe you took me for a hard-hearted father, just like a heroine's
father in a book. You've looked as woe-begone this week past as Ophelia.
One can't make up one's mind in a day about such sums of money as this,
little woman; and you should have let your old father have time to
consider."
"Oh, papa; I was only afraid you were angry."
"Well, if I was a bit perplexed, seeing you look so ill and pining was
not the way to bring me round. Old Corbet, I must say, is trying to make
a good bargain for his son. It is well for me that I have never been an
extravagant man."
"But, papa, we don't want all this much."
"Yes, yes! it is all right. You shall go into their family as a well-
portioned girl, if you can't go as a Lady Maria. Come, don't trouble
your little head any more about it. Give me one more kiss, and then
we'll go and order the horses, and have a ride together, by way of
keeping holiday. I deserve a holiday, don't I, Nelly?"
Some country people at work at the roadside, as the father and daughter
passed along, stopped to admire their bright happy looks, and one spoke
of the hereditary handsomeness of the Wilkins family (for the old man,
the present Mr. Wilkins's father, had been fine-looking in his drab
breeches and gaiters, and usual assumption of a yeoman's dress).
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