in a tumult of indignation, he again sought her
father.

CHAPTER XXII.

BANISHMENT

When Abner reached Oaklands next morning, Gilcrest, just returned from
a ride to the lower farm, was standing on the stile-block, and a negro
boy was leading his horse toward the stables. Gilcrest scowled at the
young man as he rode up, and gave him no word of greeting, nor asked
him to alight.

Abner began at once: "Major Gilcrest, I have come this morning to have
a talk with you."

"Very well; state your business," was the curt rejoinder.

"It is private business and of grave importance. Can we not seek a more
retired place than this?"

"Either here, or not at all, sir," answered Gilcrest.

"Major Gilcrest, no man has a right to treat another as you have me
without some cause, and I demand the reason for your conduct."

"I'm answerable to no one save myself and my God for my conduct,"
returned Gilcrest. "Demand, indeed!" he continued with a short laugh.
"What right has a popinjay like you to demand?"

"Well, then, I do not demand; I entreat you to assign some reason. I am
willing to believe your motives to be good, but that you are laboring
under some mistake."

"I have good reason for what I do, Mr. Dudley. Your conscience, if it
be not already too much seared and deadened, ought to tell you why. I
know more than you think, young man."

"My conscience certainly acquits me of any serious misdemeanor,"
answered Abner. "So far as I can see, my only offense is in loving your
daughter and seeking her hand in marriage; and surely that is not an
unpardonable crime. When I came to this community you treated me most
cordially, inviting me to your house, and treating me when I did visit
you with the utmost kindness, and even affection. In fact, up to the
time of my return from Virginia, we were on terms of intimate
friendship, notwithstanding the difference in age and position. But
since my return all this is changed, and I'm convinced that this change
is due to some far graver cause than disapproval of me as a suitor for
your daughter. The matter is inexplicable to me; and so guiltless do I
feel, that I'm certain you are but laboring under some egregious
mistake."

"Young man, I'm laboring under no mistake."

"Then, what are your reasons for this course?" Abner asked again.

"That you have no right to ask. Moreover, it is quite unnecessary; for,
in spite of your pretended ignorance, you know quite well to what I
re