riage left a rather wide territory of debate open. One thing at a
time seemed enough and more than enough.

Alexander had not asked him in, and he inquired calmly: "Now thet ye've
stated yore terms an' I've done agreed ter 'em, hain't ye goin' ter
invite me in?"

"No," she said shortly. "I makes ther laws in my own household. Ye
air goin' away an' ye hain't comin' back hyar fer one week. I aims ter
be left alone fer a spell now. Ef them terms don't suit ye, ye needn't
come back at all."

And in that week of reprieved decision Alexander took her life to
pieces and searchingly examined it, item by item. Some strange
reactions were taking place in the laboratory of her life. She was no
more seen in breeches and boots. She had self-contemptuously decided
that if she could not hold undeviatingly to her strongest tenet, but
became a palpitant woman when a man seized her in his arms, she would
throw overboard the whole sorry pretense.

She would henceforth be frankly and avowedly a woman, but a woman
different from those about her, giving up none of the leadership that
was in her blood or the self-pride that was her birthright.

One afternoon she met Jerry O'Keefe on the road, and with the old
unabashed twinkle in his eye he accosted her.

"I heer tell ther big feller's back," he began and the girl flushed.
"Hev ye done run him offen yore place, too?"

"Thet's my business."

"Yes _thet_ is, but yore runnin' me off's right severely _mine_."

"Mebby I've got a rather who comes thar."

"So hev I." There was a lurking, somewhat engaging impertinence even
in Jerry's quietest rejoinders, a humorous boldness and self-confidence.

"Howsomever, I reckon ye're kinderly skeered thet I'd mek ye think too
towerin' much of me. I reckon ye dar'sn't trust yoreself."

Alexander looked at him, and for all her attempted severity she could
not keep the twinkle out of her own pupils. If she had not succeeded
in driving Halloway away, why should she stand out for the subterfuge
of banishing Jerry? It reminded her of Joe's picking an easy man to
whip. There was even a faint challenge of coquetry in her manner as
she disdainfully announced: "Ef thet's ther way I'm feedin' yore
vanity, come over whenever ye feels like hit. I'll strive ter endure
ye, ef ye don't tarry too long."

"I kain't come afore ternight. Hit's sun-down now," was the instant
response.

Things had not gone well with Jase Mallows. The wound that Bu