She hesitated still, and began to speak again.
"But, Mr.Wheeler,"-- "Don't 'but' me.

There ain't any buts about it.

There's the clock.

Take it, child,--take it, take it, take it, or else leave it, just's you like.
I ain't a-goin' to saddle ye with it; but I think ye'd be very silly not to take it,--silly, silly." Mercy began to think so too.

The clock was its own advocate, almost as strong as the old man's pleading.
"Very well, Mr.Wheeler," she said.