"I think it was Thomas Merriam, and he was tryin' to get up the back
stairs unbeknownst to anybody, and he run into something."

"What for?"

"Because he didn't want to see _us_."

"Now, Arabella Mann, I don't believe it! He's always real pleasant to
me."

"Well, I do believe it, and I guess he'll know it when I set foot in
that house again. I guess he'll find out I didn't go there to see
him! He needn't feel so fine, if he is the minister; his folks ain't
any better than mine, an' we've got 'nough sight handsomer furniture
in our parlor."

"Did you see how the tallow had all run down over the candles?"

"Yes, I did. She gave that candle she carried out in the kitchen to
him, too. Mother says she wasn't never any kind of a housekeeper."

"Hush! Arabella: here he is coming now."

But it was not Thomas; it was his father, advancing through the
evening with his son's gait and carriage. When the two girls
discovered that, one tittered out quite audibly, and they scuttled
past. They were not rivals; they simply walked faithfully side by
side in pursuit of the young minister, giving him as it were an
impartial choice. There were even no heart-burnings between them; one