_Hiram_ (_tragically_). I know: to the owner of Trueworth Farm! Mattie, it's hard to lose you, but it's for the best: I see my error. I cannot win you; and so I freely give you up to a better, a richer man,—the owner of Trueworth Farm. Farewell! (_Clasps her in his arms quick, and kisses her: she screams; he runs off_ C.) _Mattie._ Well, I never! what does he mean? He give me up? He shall do no such thing. Dear, dear! have I lost him? Hiram, Hiram! (_Runs off_ C.) _Gaylie._ Your son has gone, Mr. Jenks. _Hosea._ Has he? I must run after him. I can't bear to have him out of my sight: I'm so proud of him! (_Aside._) He might repent, and give me up. [_Exit_ C. _Rowell_ (_as_ GAYLIE _comes down_). Gaylie, may I ask a favor of you? I have been making a sale to-night, and have here fifteen hundred dollars: will you give me your check for it? I want to send it to-night. _Gaylie._ Certainly! you'll find my check-book in the next room. Please bring it to me, colonel. (ROWELL _bows, and exits_ L.; GAYLIE _sits in chair_ R., _and looks after him_.) That man loves me, for two years has been my devoted slave; and now the time has come for me to speak plainly. He tells me there is no longer reason for delay: he is right. He thinks his long period of devotion deserves a recompense: he shall have it. And the other, Rob Trueworth, who left here four years ago,—does he still love me? (_Smiles._) Can I doubt it? Yet I must speak to-night, speak plainly. He believes that he has won me: I can see it in his proud step, the triumphant glance of his eye. Is he right? (_Smiles._) Can I doubt that? (_Enter_ ROWELL L., _with check-book_.) I'm so sorry to trouble you, colonel! (_Takes book._) Fifteen hundred, you say? (_Writes check._) _Rowell_ (_laying down bills_). Yes: you'll find the bills here. _Gaylie._ So you have made a sale to-night, colonel? _Rowell._ Yes: Trueworth Farm. _Gaylie._ Sold Trueworth Farm? And you refused to sell it to me four years ago! _Rowell._ Yes,—yes, I remember. I didn't like to part with it now, but I wanted money— _Gaylie_ (_rising_). Oh! I bear you no malice, colonel. (_Gives check._) _Rowell._ Thank you. And now, Gaylie, that we are alone, may I once more press you for an answer? (_Takes her hand, and puts his arm about her waist._) You know how dearly I love you: make me happy by saying that you return that love. _Gaylie._ And would that really make you happy, colonel? _Rowell._ Happy? The happiest of men! _Gaylie_ (_drawing herself up_). Then hear me, Col. Rowell! (_Enter_ L. MRS. TRUEWORTH, _with shawl and_ _bonnet added to her former costume, and a large band-box in her hand_.) _Rowell._ Oh, speak, Gaylie! tell me you love me! _Mrs. T._ Before you do, Gaylie, let me get out of this house. (GAYLIE _goes_ R., ROWELL L.)