against his wishes, and starving her."

"There are others he would have you marry," said Jerome, a pallor
creeping through the leather grime on his face.

Lawrence colored. "Yes, I suppose so," he said, simply; "but it's no
use. I could never marry any other girl than Elmira, no matter how
rich and handsome she was, nor how much she pleased father, even if
she cared about me, and she wouldn't."

"You have been--going a little with some one else, haven't you?"
Jerome asked, hoarsely.

Lawrence stared. "What do you mean?"

"I--saw you riding--"

"Oh," said Lawrence, laughing, "you mean I've been horseback-riding
with Lucina Merritt. That was nothing."

"It wasn't nothing if she thought it was something," Jerome said,
with a flash of white face and black eyes at the other.

Lawrence looked wonderingly at him, laughed first, then responded
with some indignation, "Good Lord, Jerome, what are you talking
about?"

"What I mean. My sister doesn't marry any man over another woman's
heart if I know it."

"Good Lord!" said Lawrence. "Why, Jerome, do you suppose I'd hurt
little Lucina? She doesn't care for me in that way, she never would.
And as for me--why, look here, Jerome, I never so much as held her
hand. I never looked at her even, in any way--" Lawrence shook his
head in emphatic reiteration of denial.

"I might as well tell you that Lucina was the one I meant when I said
father would like others better," continued Lawrence, "but Lucina
Merritt would never care anything about me, even if I did about her,
and I never could. Handsome as she is, and I do believe she's the
greatest beauty in the whole county, she hasn't the taking way with
her that Elmira has--you must see that yourself, Jerome."

Jerome laughed awkwardly. Nobody knew how much joy those words of
Lawrence Prescott's gave him, and how hard he tried to check the joy,
because it should not matter to him except for Elmira's sake.

"Did you ever see a girl with such sweet ways as your sister?"
persisted Lawrence.

"Elmira is a good girl," Jerome admitted, confusedly. He loved his
sister, and would have defended her against depreciation with his
life, but he compared inwardly, with scorn, her sweet ways with
Lucina's.

"There isn't a girl her equal in this world," cried her lover,
enthusiastically. "Don't you say so, Jerome? You're her brother, you
know what she is. Did you ever see anything like that cunning little
face she makes, when she looks