r it. I shall have in her a
pious, Christian wife!

MRS MILLER (smiling in a stupidly affected manner). Yes--but, Mr.
Seckertary----

MILLER (greatly incensed, pulls her ears). Woman!

MRS MILLER. If our family can serve you in any other way--with the
greatest pleasure, Mr. Seckertary----

WORM (frowning angrily). In any other way? Much obliged! much
obliged!--hm! hm! hm!

MRS MILLER. But, as you yourself must see, Mr. Seckertary----

MILLER (in a rage, shaking his fist at her). Woman!

MRS MILLER. Good is good, and better is better, and one does not like to
stand between fortune and one's only child (with vulgar pride). You
understand me, Mr. Seckertary?

WORM. Understand. Not exac---. Oh, yes. But what do you really mean?

MRS MILLER. Why--why--I only think--I mean--(coughs). Since then
Providence has determined to make a great lady of my daughter----

WORM (jumping from his chair). What's that you say? what?

MILLER. Keep your seat, keep your seat, Mr. Secretary! The woman's an
out-and-out fool! Where's the great lady to come from? How you show
your donkey's ears by talking such stuff.

MRS MILLER. Scold as long as you will. I know what I know, and what the
major said he said.

MILLER (snatches up his fiddle in anger). Will you hold your tongue?
Shall I throw my fiddle at your head? What can you know? What can he
have said? Take no notice of her clack, kinsman! Away with you to your
kitchen! You'll not think me first cousin of a fool, and that I'm
looking out so high for the girl? You'll not think that of me, Mr.
Secretary?

WORM. Nor have I deserved it of you, Mr. Miller! You have always shown
yourself a man of your word, and my contract to your daughter was as good
as signed. I hold an office that will maintain a thrifty manager; the
president befriends me; the door to advancement is open to me whenever I
may choose to take advantage of it. You see that my intentions towards
Miss Louisa are serious; if you have been won over by a fop of rank----

MRS MILLER. Mr. Seckertary! more respect, I beg----

MILLER. Hold your tongue, I say. Never mind her, kinsman. Things
remain as they were. The answer I gave you last harvest, I repeat
to-day. I'll not force my daughter. If you suit her, well and good;
then it's for her to see that she can be happy with you. If she shakes
her head--still better--be it so, I should say--then you must be content
to pocket the refusal, and part in good fellowship over a bot