“An’ I reckon William said true,” she wound up.  “If ’Lizabeth don’t know which side her bread’s buttered she’s no better nor a fool—­an’ William’s another.”

“I dunno,” said the farmer; “it’s a queer business, an’ I don’t fairly see my way about in it.  I’m main puzzled what can ha’ become o’ that will I witnessed for th’ old man.”

“She’s a fool, I say.”

“Well, well; if she didn’t want the man I reckon she knows best.  He put it fairly to her.”

“That’s just it, you ninny!” interrupted his wiser wife; “I gave William credit for more sense.  Put it fairly, indeed!  If he’d said nothin’, but just caught her in his arms, an’ clipped an’ kissed her, she couldn’t ha’ stood out.  But he’s lost his chance, an’ now she’ll never marry.”

And it was as she said.

THE END.