"
The tears came into Samuel Flint's eyes. "Let us shake hands,
Lucy," he said: "my son has married your daughter."
All but Jacob were freshly startled at these words. The two shook
hands, and then Samuel, turning to Susan's father, said: "And this
is your husband, Lucy. I am glad to make his acquaintance."
"Your father, Jacob!" Susan cried; "what does it all mean?"
Jacob's face grew red, and the old habit of hanging his head nearly
came back upon him. He knew not what to say, and looked wistfully
at his father.
"Come into the house and sit down," said the latter. "I think we
shall all feel better when we have quietly and comfortably talked
the matter over."
They went into the quaint, old-fashioned parlor, which had already
been transformed by Susan's care, so that much of its shabbiness
was hidden. When all were seated, and Samuel Flint perceived that
none of the others knew what to say, he took a resolution which,
for a man of his mood and habit of life, required some courage.
"Three of us here are old people," he began, "and the two young
ones love each other.
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