ifully
written lines, breathlessly looking for the threat she knew they
embodied. When she saw it she rose to her feet, and passed her hand
quickly over her eyes as if to brush away something that prevented her
from seeing clearly. Gill stood up too, and, grasping her shoulder with
one hand, gave her a little shake.

"Don't you see, Lizzi? I have been in love with you for a long time and
gave mother a hint to learn her opinion, and then before the reply came,
my heart broke from its bonds, and I told you my love."

"Yes?" said Lizzi, interrogatively.

"And then I got this letter, threatening to disinherit me, as my father
directed I should be if I married without my mother's consent."

"Yes?" again the plaintive interrogation. Then by a sudden great effort
she overcame the doubt that had for the moment shackled her. She loosed
his grasp, picked up the basket, and, standing erect with one foot
advanced, a queen abdicating a throne, said:

"Write to her you are free."

"But I will not."

His reply was positive. He stood before her, blocking her way, himself
aroused to earnestness that needed no affectation, for it was honest. He
had just discovered how unselfish a woman's love can be, and reckoned
upon it as the last means of retaining his promised wife.

"See," and he tore into bits the beautiful letter. "Thus do I leave my
mother for you, Elizabeth; but it will break her heart, it will shorten
her life."

His head drooped, his chin touched his chest. Lizzi was touched by his
grief, and for him had great compassion. She still held the basket on
her left bended arm. With her free hand she gave his forehead a
quivering pressure.

"Wait, John, till your mother dies; then I will be your wife."

"I cannot. I will not!"

He lifted his hand determinedly. She still held the basket, her right
hand clasping the left, her posture signifying that she was pausing for
him to let her pass. He gave her an imploring look, but she was
inflexible. Her face had assumed a softened yet determined expression.
Regret and resolve had mingled their lines and gave her features a sad
tenderness. She was merciful, yet resolute.

Gill pulled aside the overhanging branch of a tree and bowed to let her
pass.

A sigh parted her lips as she gave him her hand in farewell. He seized
it eagerly and held it firmly. She endeavored to take it from him, but
not rudely. He loosed his grasp slightly and his hold became clinging in
its significa