I've done all I could.

I bought her the little horse--she seemed real pleased with that, Abigail, you know.

I thought, maybe, she would be contented a while here with us." "Eben Merritt, you don't for a minute think that she can be anywhere but with us, for all this!" "It's the knowledge that she's willing to be that comes hard," said the Squire, piteously--"it's that, Abigail." "I don't know that she's any too willing to," returned Abigail, half laughing.

"The principal thing that seems to trouble the child is that Jerome won't come to see her.

I rather think that if he would come to see her she would be perfectly contented." "And why can't he come to see her, if she wants him to--will you tell me that ?" cried the Squire, with sudden fervor.
"Eben Merritt, would you have the poor child getting to thinking more of him than she does, when he isn't going to marry her ?" "And why isn't he going to marry her, if she wants him?
By the Lord Harry, Lucina shall have whoever she wants, if it's a prince or a beggar! If that fellow has been coming here, and now--" "Eben, listen to me and keep quiet!" cried Abigail, running at her great husband's side, with a little, wiry, constraining hand on his arm, for the Squire had sprung from his seat and was tramping up and down in his rage that Lucina should be denied what she wanted, even though it were his own heart's blood.