--I thought there was something going on between her and the Register,--I
said.
--Something! I should think there was! About three months ago he began
making her acquaintance. I thought there was something particular. I
did n't quite like to watch 'em very close; but I could n't help
overbearing some of the things he said to her, for, you see, he used to
follow her up into the parlor, they talked pretty low, but I could catch
a word now and then. I heard him say something to her one day about
"bettering her condition," and she seemed to be thinking very hard about
it, and turning of it over in her mind, and I said to myself, She does
n't want to take up with him, but she feels dreadful poor, and perhaps he
has been saving and has got money in the bank, and she does n't want to
throw away a chance of bettering herself without thinking it over. But
dear me,--says I to myself,--to think of her walking up the broad aisle
into meeting alongside of such a homely, rusty-looking creatur' as that!
But there 's no telling what folks will do when poverty has got hold of
'em.
--Well, so I thought she was waiting to make up her mind, and he was
hanging on in hopes she'd come round at last, as women do half the time,
for they don't know their own minds and the wind blows both ways at once
with 'em as the smoke blows out of the tall chimlies,--east out of this
one and west out of that,--so it's no use looking at 'em to know what the
weather is.
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