Rachel saw that it was of no use to expect Henry to court her, and she could not help liking him the better for his honest straightforwardness. She looked down a minute, in the hope that he would say something that might make it easier for her to answer, but he kept his silence. "Henry," she said at length, rolling a corn-cob over and over under the toe of her shoe, "I've got a good mind to say 'Yes.' You don't make me sick, like the rest of them. Father'll be struck when he hears of it. He's always said I'd marry some good-for-nothing town-fellow." "Is it a bargain, good and fast?" said Henry, holding out his hand, as he would have done to clinch the buying of a piece of timber land or a sorrel horse. "Yes," said Rachel, laughing at the oddness of it and the suddenness of it, "I'm tired of fooling. It's a bargain, Henry." "Good fer you, Rache! Now I begin to like you better than ever."