“Do you think I like to be made the means of giving your sister pain?” said I. “There now, don’t be a fool, Dick--sit down like a good fellow, and light your pipe. What I said don’t mean any thing down in these parts. Well, I’m very sorry. She’ll never think twice about it, bless you. And besides, you know, there can’t be any harm done, for you didn’t take my advice.” Well, I began to get cool, and to think I might do something better than quarrel with Joe the last night; so I took my pipe, and filled it, and sat down opposite him, and he began to mix two glasses of grog, twisting his face about all the time to keep himself from laughing. “Here’s your health, old fellow,” said he, when he had done, “and, mind you, we shall always be glad to see you here when you can come; though I’m afraid the place must be terrible dull for a Londoner.” “It’s the best place I’ve ever been in,” said I, with a sigh. This pleased Joe; and he went off about what he would find me to do if I could come down in the winter or the spring; but I didn’t listen much, for I was making up my mind to speak to him about his sister, and I was afraid how he might take it. Presently he stopped for a moment, and I thought, ‘now or never,’ and began. “I want to ask you, Joe, is your sister engaged to any one?” “Not she,” said Joe, looking up rather surprised; “why, she’s only eighteen come Lady-day!” “What do you think of Mr. Warton?” said I. “Our Parson!” laughed Joe; “that is a good ’un. Why he has got a sweetheart of his own. Let alone that he’d know better than to court a farmer’s daughter.” “Are you sure?” said I; “your sister isn’t like most girls, I can tell you.” “Yes, I tell you,” said Joe, “he’s no more in love with our Lu than you are.” “Then I’m over head and ears in love with her, and that’s all about it,” said I, and I looked straight across at him, though it wasn’t an easy thing to do. But I felt I was in for it, and I should be much better for having it over. Joe gave a start, and a long whistle; and then a puff or two at his pipe, staring at me right in the eyes till I felt my head swimming. But I wasn’t going to look down just then; if he had looked me right through he couldn’t have found any thing I was ashamed of, so far as his sister was concerned, and I felt he had a right to look as hard as he pleased, and that I was bound not to shirk it. Presently he got up, and took a turn or two up and down the kitchen. Then he stopped-- “Spoke to her, yet?” said he. “No,” said I, “I haven’t.” “Come, give us your hand, Dick,” said he, holding out his, and looking quite bright again; “I knew you would be all on the square, let be what might.” “Well, I won’t deceive you, Joe,” said I, “I don’t deserve any credit for that.” “How not?” said he. “Why, I meant to have spoken to her half-a-dozen times, only one little thing or another stopped it. But I’m very glad of it, for I think you ought to know it first.”