But John had some reason.

Things look mighty crooked there at the bank.

I know this--Mart says that Brownwell lent him the money, and Mart lent it to the bank for a month there in August, while he was holding the Chicago fellow in the air." Mrs.Ward sat down on the front steps of the porch, and exclaimed:-- "Well, Phil Ward--that's why the Culpeppers are so nice to Brownwell.
Honestly, Phil, the last time I was over Mrs.Culpepper nearly talked her head off to me and at Molly about what a fine man he is, and told all about his family, and connections--he's related to the angel Gabriel on his mother's side," she laughed, "and he's own cousin to St.Peter through the Brownwells." "Oh, I guess they're innocent enough about it--they aren't mercenary," interrupted the general.
"Oh, no," replied Mrs Ward, "never in the world; but he's been good to them and he's of their stock--and it's only natural." "Yes, probably," replied the general, and asked, "Does she intend to marry him, do you think ?" Mrs.Ward was sorting some dahlia roots on the wheelbarrow and did not reply at once.

"Do you suppose they're engaged ?" repeated the general.
"I often wonder," she returned, still at her task.

Then she rose, holding a bulb in her hands, and said: "It's a funny kind of relation.
Her father and mother egging her on--and you know that kind of a man; give him an inch and he'll take an ell.