human
Phoebe! My awn li'l wummon! This be a wisht home-comin'! What the plague's the matter wi' us?
gpt
Doan't 'e mind, dear heart. I'm happy as a bird under these silly tears. But 'twas the leavin' o' faither, an' him so hard, an' me lovin' him so dear, an'--an'--
human
Doan't 'e break your heart 'bout him. He'll come round right enough. 'Twas awnly the pang o' your gwaine away, like the drawin' of a tooth.
gpt
Everybody else in the world knaws I ought to be here, sobbed Phoebe,
human
If he won't onderstand the ways of marriage, blessed if I see how we can make him. Surely to God, 'twas time I had my awn?
gpt
Ess, dear Will, but coming to-day, 'pon top of my gert joy, faither's sorrow seemed so terrible-like.
human
He'll get awver it, an' so will you, bless you. Drink up some of this braave stuff mother left. Sherry 't is, real wine, as will comfort 'e, my li'l love. 'Tis I be gwaine to make your happiness henceforward, mind; an' as for Miller, he belongs to an auld-fashioned generation of mankind, and it's our place to make allowances. Auld folk doan't knaw an' won't larn. But he'll come to knaw wan solid thing, if no more; an' that is as his darter'll have so gude a husband as she've got faither, though I sez it.
gpt
Nevermind, forgive un, an' drink up your wine; 'twill hearten 'e.