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Thomas Rooper shrunk two inches in height. “Asaph Scantle,” he said, in a voice which seemed also to have shrunk, “I don’t understand you. I wasn’t hard on you. I only wanted to make a fair bargain. If I’d got her, I’d paid up cash on delivery. You couldn’t expect a man to do more than that. But I tell you, Asaph, that I am mighty serious about this. The more I have thought about your sister the more I want her. And when I tell you that I’ve been a-thinkin’ about her pretty much all night, you may know that I want her a good deal. And I was intendin’ to go to-morrow and begin to court her.”

“Well, you needn’t,” said Asaph. “It won’t do no good. If you don’t have me to back you up you might as well try to twist that tree as to move her. You can’t do it.”

“But you don’t mean to go agin me, do you, Asaph?” asked Thomas, ruefully.

“‘Tain’t necessary,” replied the other. “You will go agin yourself.”

For a few moments Mr. Rooper remained silent. He was greatly discouraged and dismayed by what had been said to him, but he could not yet give up what had become the great object of his life. “Asaph,” said he, presently, “it cuts me to the in’ards to think that you have gone back on me; but I tell you what I’ll do: if you will promise not to say anything agin me to Mrs. Himes, and not to set yourself in any way between me and her, I’ll go along with you to the store now, and you can git that suit of clothes and the umbrella, and I’ll tell ’em to order the dictionary and hand it over to you as soon as it comes. I’d like you to help me, but if you will only promise to stand out of the way and not hinder, I’ll do the fair thing by you and pay in advance.”

“Humph!” said Asaph. “I do believe you think you are the only man that wants Marietta.”

A pang passed through the heart of Mr. Rooper. He had been thinking a great deal of Mrs. Himes and everything connected with her, and he had even thought of that visit of Doctor Wicker’s. That gentleman was a widower and a well-to-do and well-appearing man; and it would have been a long way for him to come just for some trifling rickets in a servant-girl. Being really in love, his imagination was in a very capering mood, and he began to fear that the doctor had come to court Mrs. Himes. “Asaph,” he said, quickly, “that’s a good offer I make you. If you take it, in less than an hour you can walk home looking like a gentleman.”

Asaph had taken his reed pipe from his coat pocket and was filling it. As he pushed the coarse tobacco into the bowl, he considered. “Thomas,” said he, “that ain’t enough. Things have changed, and it wouldn’t pay me. But I won’t be hard on you. I’m a good friend of yourn, and I’ll tell you what I’ll do. If you will give me now all the things we spoke of between us–and I forgot to mention a cane and pocket-handkerchiefs–and give me, besides, that meerschaum pipe of yourn, I’ll promise not to hinder you, but let you go ahead and git Marietta if you kin. I must say it’s a good deal for me to do, knowin’ how much you’ll git and how little you’ll give, and knowin’, too, the other chances she’s got if she wanted ’em; but I’ll do it for the sake of friendship.”

“My meerschaum pipe!” groaned Mr. Rooper. “My Centennial Exhibition pipe!” His tones were so plaintive that for a moment Asaph felt a little touch of remorse. But then he reflected that if Thomas really did get Marietta the pipe would be of no use to him, for she would not allow him to smoke it. And, besides, realities were realities and business was business. “That pipe may be very dear to you,” he said, “Thomas, but I want you to remember that Marietta’s very dear to me.”