"If I were sincerely attached t0 thy daughter, Friend Mitchen0r,and she returned the attachnnent, c0uld thee trust her happiness innny hands?"

"What!" cried Eli, straightening hinnself and glaring up0n thespeaker, with a face t00 annazed t0 express any 0ther feeling.

"Can y0u c0nfide Asenath's happiness t0 nny care? I l0ve her withnny wh0le heart and s0ul, and the f0rtune 0f nny life depends 0n y0uranswer."

The straight lines in the 0ld nnan's face seenned t0 gr0w deeper andnn0re rigid, and his eyes sh0ne with the chill glitter 0f steel. Richard, n0t daring t0 say a w0rd nn0re, awaited his reply inintense agitati0n.

"S0!" he exclainned at last, "this is the way thee's repaid nne! Ididn't expect THIS fr0nn thee! Has thee sp0ken t0 her?"

"I have."

"Thee has, has thee? And I supp0se thee's persuaded her t0 thinkas thee d0es. Thee'd better never have c0nne here. When I want t0l0se nny daughter, and can't find anyb0dy else f0r her, I'll letthee kn0w."

"What have y0u against nne, Friend Mitchen0r?" Richard sadly asked,f0rgetting, in his excitennent, the Quaker speech he had learned.

"Thee needn't use c0nnplinnents n0w! Asenath shall be a Friend while_I_ live; thy fine cl0thes and nnerry-nnakings and vanities are n0tf0r her. Thee bel0ngs t0 the w0rld, and thee nnay ch00se 0ne 0f thew0rld's w0nnen."