Millie drew her heavy blanket shawl closer around her and pulled her black woolen cap farther over her forehead, then she turned and looked at Amos, but his face was in shadow; the feeble oil lamp of the market wagon sent scant light inside. "Now, Amos, you say that just because you take pity for me and want to fix a home for me, ain't?" "Ach, yammer, no!" came the vehement reply. "I liked you long a'ready, Millie, and used to think still, 'There's a girl I'd like to marry!'" "Why, Amos," came the happy answer, "and I liked you, too, long a'ready! I used to think still to myself, 'I don't guess I'll ever get married but if I do I'd like a man like Amos.'" Then Uncle Amos suddenly demonstrated his skill at driving one-handed and something more than the blanket-shawl was around Millie's shoulders. "Ach, my," she said after a while, "to think of it--me, a hired girl, to get a nice, good man like you for husband!" "And me, a fat dopple of a farmer to get a girl like you! I'll be good to you, Millie, honest! You just see once if I won't! You needn't work so hard no more. I'll buy the farm off my sister and we'll sell some of the land and stop this goin' to market. It's too hard work. We can take it easier; we're both gettin' old, ain't, Millie?" He leaned over and kissed her again. "You know," he said blissfully, "I used to think still this here kissin' business is all soft mush, but--why--I think it's all right. Don't you?" "Ach," she laughed as she pushed his face away gently. "They say still there ain't no fools like old ones. I guess we're some." "All right, we don't care, long as we like it. Here," he spoke to the horse, "giddap with you! Abody'd think you was restin' 'stead of goin' to market. We'll be late for sure this morning." His mittened hands flapped the reins and the horse quickened his steps. "Ha, ha," the man laughed, "I know what ails old Bill! The kissin' scared him. He never heard none before in this market wagon. No wonder he stands still. Here's another for good measure." "Ach, Amos, I think that's often enough now! Anyhow for this morning once." "Ha, ha," he laughed. "Millie, you're all right! That's what you are!" That evening at supper Philip asked suddenly, "What ails you two, Uncle Amos, you and Millie? I see you grin every time you look at each other." "Well, nothin' ails me except a bad case of love that's been stickin' in me this long while and now it's broke out. Millie's caught it too." "Well, I declare!" Amanda was quick to detect his meaning. "You two darlings! I'm so glad!" "Ach," the hired girl said, blushing rosy, "don't go make so much fuss about it. Ain't we old enough to get married?" "I'm glad, Millie," Mrs. Reist told her. "Amos just needs a wife like you. He worried me long a'ready, goin' on all alone. Now I know he'll have some one to look out for him."