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you'll find when the plum's gone." "It's just this, you know. When you suggested this thing to me--" "Well;--yes; I did suggest it, and I ain't ashamed of it." "I was awfully grateful. I had met your daughter once or twice, and I told you I admired her ever so much." "That's true;--but you didn't admire her a bit more than what she's entitled to." "I'm sure of that. But then I thought I ought,--just to,--know her a little better, you see. And then how could I presume to think she'd take me till she knew me a little better?" "Presume to think! Is that all you know about young women? Pop the question right out, and give her a buss. That's the way." Newton paused a moment before he spoke, and looked very grave. "I think you're driving me a little too fast, Mr. Neefit," he said at last. "The deuce I am! Driving you too fast. What does that mean?" "There must be a little management and deliberation in these things. If I were to do as you propose, I should not recommend myself to your daughter; and I should myself feel that, at the most important crisis of my life, I was allowing myself to be hurried beyond my judgment." These words were spoken with a slow solemnity of demeanour, and a tone of voice so serious that for a moment they perfectly awed the breeches-maker. Ralph was almost successful in reducing his proposed father-in-law to a state of absolute subjection. Mr. Neefit was all but induced to forget that he stood there with twenty thousand pounds in his pocket. There came a drop or two of perspiration on his brow, and his large saucer eyes almost quailed before those of his debtor. But at last he rallied himself,--though not entirely. He could not quite assume that self-assertion which he knew that his position would have warranted; but he did keep his flag up after a fashion. "I dare say you know your own business best, Mr. Newton;--only them's not my ideas; that's all. I come to you fair and honest, and I repeats the same. Good morning, Mr. Newton." So he went, and nothing had been settled. To say that Ralph had even yet made up his mind would be to give him praise which was not his due. He was still doubting, though in his doubts the idea of marrying Polly Neefit became more indistinct, and less alluring than ever. By this time he almost hated Mr. Neefit, and most unjustly regarded that man as a persecutor, who was taking advantage of his pecuniary ascendancy to trample on him. "He thinks I
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