"
Mrs. Grattan had a beautiful kitchen. It had an old dresser with a
carved top and a grandfather's clock, and Ned liked to sit on the
table and watch the stove. She poured him out a cup of tea and he
drank it, swinging his legs all the time.
"Well, Mrs. Grattan, I'll tell you some news--I think I am going
to marry Miss Cronin."
"Well," said she, "it doesn't astonish me," but she nearly let the
teapot drop. "From the first day you came here I always thought
something was going to happen to you."
He had no sooner told her the news than he began to regret he had
told her, and he said that Miss Cronin had gone to her father to
ask his consent. Of course, if he did not give it, there would be
no marriage.
"But he will give it. Miss Ellen does exactly as she likes with
him, and it's a fine fortune you will be having with her."
"It isn't of that I am thinking," said Ned, "but of her red hair."
"And you wouldn't believe me when I said that she was the
prettiest girl in the country. Now you will see for yourself."
Ned hadn't finished his tea when there was a knock at the door.
"And how do you do, Miss Ellen?" said Mrs. Grattan, and Ellen
guessed from her manner that Ned had told her.
"Well, Mrs. Grattan, I am glad that you are the first person to
bear the news to. I have just asked my father's consent and he has
given it. I am going to marry Mr. Carmady."
Mrs. Grattan was sorry there was no cake on the table, but there
was some buttered toast in the oven; and Ellen reminded her of the
paper boats and the alder-trees, and they spoke for a long time
about her son James and about people that Ned knew nothing of,
until Ned began to feel bored and went to the window.
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