She was all ready--weddin'-dress an' bonnet an' everything--an' this house was 'most done an' ready for them to move into; but one Sunday night Barney he went up to see Charlotte, an' he got into a dispute with her father about the 'lection, an' the old man he ordered Barney out of the house, an' Barney he went out, an' he never went in again--couldn't nobody make him.

His mother she talked; it 'most killed her; an' I guess Charlotte said all she could, but he wouldn't stir a peg.
"He went right to livin' in his new house, an' he lives there now; he ain't married, an' Charlotte ain't.

She's had chances, too.

Squire Payne's son, he wanted her bad." The visiting cousin's mild, interrogative face peered out around the black panel of the covered wagon at Barney's poor house; her spectacles glittered at it in the sun.

"I want to know!" said she, with the expression of strained, entertained amiability which she wore through her visit.
When they passed the Barnard house the Pembroke woman partly drew rein again; the old horse meandered in a zigzag curve, with his head lopping.