"Ah! I don't mind your pinching," grinned Jonas, "a bit."
"Pinch him for me, Cherry, pray," said Merry. "I never did hate anybody so much as I hate this creature, I declare!"
"No, no, don't say that," urged Jonas, "and don't pinch either, because I want to be serious. I say—Cousin Charity—"
"Well! what?" she answered, sharply.
"I want to have some sober talk," said Jonas: "I want to prevent any mistakes, you know, and to put everything upon a pleasant understanding. That's desirable and proper, ain't it?"
Neither of the sisters spoke a word. Mr. Jonas paused and cleared his throat, which was very dry.
"She 'll not believe what I'm going to say, will she cousin?" said Jonas, timidly squeezing Miss Charity.
"Really Mr. Jonas I don't know, until I hear what it is. It's quite impossible!"
"Why, you see," said Jonas, "her way always being to make game of people, I know she 'll laugh, or pretend to—I know that, beforehand. But you can tell her I'm in earnest, cousin; can't you? You 'll confess you know, won't you? You 'll be honourable, I'm sure," he added persuasively.
No answer. His throat seemed to grow hotter and hotter, and to be more and more difficult of controul.
"You see. Cousin Charity," said Jonas, "nobody but you can tell her what pains I took to get into her company when you were both at the boarding-house in the city, because nobody's so well aware of it, you know. Nobody else can tell her how hard I tried to get to know you better, in order that I might get to know her without seeming to wish it; can they? I always asked you about her, and said where had she gone, and when would she come, and how lively she was, and all that; didn't I, cousin? I know you 'll tell her so, if you haven't told her so already, and—and—I dare say you have, because I'm sure you 're honourable, ain't you?"
Still not a word. The right arm of Mr. Jonas—the elder sister sat upon his right—may have been sensible of some tumultuous throbbing which was not within itself; but nothing else apprised him that his words had had the least effect.
"Even if you kept it to yourself, and haven't told her," resumed Jonas, "it don't much matter, because you 'll bear honest witness now; won't you? We 've been very good friends from the first; haven't we? and of course we shall be quite friends in future, and so I don't mind speaking before you a bit. Cousin Mercy, you 've heard what I 've been saying. She 'll confirm it, every word; she must. Will you have me for your husband? Eh?"
As he released his hold of Charity, to put this question with better effect, she started up and hurried away to her own room, marking her progress as she went by such a train of passionate and incoherent sound, as nothing but a slighted woman in her anger could produce.
"Let me go away. Let me go after her," said Merry, pushing him off, and giving him—to tell the truth—more than one sounding slap upon his outstretched face.
