"Mr.
Blaize," he said, "this is very kind of the people you allude to, but I am of an age now to think and act for myself--I love her, sir!" His whole countenance changed, and the muscles of his face quivered.
"Well!" said the farmer, appeasingly, "we all do at your age--somebody or other.

It's natural!" "I love her!" the young man thundered afresh, too much possessed by his passion to have a sense of shame in the confession.

"Farmer!" his voice fell to supplication, "will you bring her back ?" Farmer Blaize made a queer face.

He asked--what for?
and where was the promise required ?--But was not the lover's argument conclusive?
He said he loved her! and he could not see why her uncle should not in consequence immediately send for her, that they might be together.

All very well, quoth the farmer, but what's to come of it ?--What was to come of it?
Why, love, and more love! And a bit too much! the farmer added grimly.
"Then you refuse me, farmer," said Richard.