Widow. I am too full of grief to be well.

Fellow. So belike I have hard to say.

Widow. My head aches so dreadfully, I cannot hold it up. I must beg
of you to let me know your business.

Fellow. Nay, and that be all, my business is soon known. It is but to
give this letter into your own partiklar hands--here it is.

Widow. [Taking it.] From my dear friend Miss Howe?--Ah, my head!

Fellow. Yes, Madam: but I am sorry you are so bad.

Widow. Do you live with Miss Howe?

Fellow. No, Madam: I am one of her tenants' sons. Her lady-mother must
not know as how I came of this errand. But the letter, I suppose, will
tell you all.

Widow. How shall I satisfy you for this kind trouble?

Fellow. No how at all. What I do is for love of Miss Howe. She will
satisfy me more than enough. But, may-hap, you can send no answer, you
are so ill.

Widow. Was you ordered to wait for an answer?

Fellow. No, I cannot say as that I was. But I was bidden to observe