the charge, with the assurance, however, that he "WOULD do that
much for Tillie any day he got the chancet," Mr. Getz next taxed the
doctor, who, of course, without the least scruple, denied all knowledge
of Tillie's monetary affairs.

On market day, he had to go to Lancaster City, and when his efforts to
force Tillie to sign a cheek payable to him had proved vain, his
baffled greed again roused him to uncontrollable fury, and lifting his
hand, he struck her across the cheek.

Tillie reeled and would have fallen had he not caught her, his anger
instantly cooling in his fear lest she faint again. But Tillie had no
idea of fainting. "Let me go," she said quietly, drawing her arm out of
his clasp. Turning quickly away, she walked straight out of the room
and up-stairs to her chamber.

Her one change of clothing she quickly tied into a bundle, and putting
on her bonnet and shawl, she walked down-stairs and out of the house.

"Where you goin'?" her father demanded roughly as he followed her out
on the porch.

She did not answer, but walked on to the gate. In an instant he had
overtaken her and stood squarely in her path.

"Where you goin' to?" he repeated.

"To town, to board at the store."

He dragged her, almost by main force, back into the house, and all that
evening kept a watch upon her until he knew that she was in bed.

Next morning, Tillie carried her bundle of clothing to school with her,
and at the noon recess she went to the family who kept the village
store and engaged board with them, saying she could not stand the daily
walks to and from school.

When, at six o'clock that evening, she had not returned home, her
father drove in to the village store to get her. But she locked herself
in her bedroom and would not come out.

In the next few weeks he tried every means of force at his command, but
in vain; and at last he humbled himself to propose a compromise.

"I'll leave you have some of your money every month, Tillie,--as much
as ten dollars,--if you'll give me the rest, still."

"Why should I give it to you, father? How would that benefit ME?" she
said, with a rather wicked relish in turning the tables on him and
applying his life principle of selfishness to her own case.

Her father did not know how to meet it. Never before in her life, to
his knowledge, had Tillie considered her own benefit before his and
that of his wife and children. That she should dare to do so now seemed
to knock the foun