ll these years, when you
said 'No' to one after another?"

"Yes," she answered calmly. "And I have made up my mind to be his
wife."

The old man took a step towards her.

"Made up your mind, have you...?"

"Yes," said the girl gently; "and I want you, father, to consent."

"But suppose I've made up my mind?" The old man drew himself up
and stood between them, straight as a fir stem. "And this I say: My
daughter's not for any wandering lumberman that has the impudence to
ask."

He spoke with firmness and authority--matters seemed hopelessly at
a deadlock. There was a moment of tense silence. Kyllikki bowed
her head, then slowly she looked up and faced her father, steadily,
confidently--Olof noticed with surprise how the two in that moment
were alike. Expression and attitude were the same in both.

"And if she chooses to give herself--what then?"

The old man's eyes flashed.

"Then--why, she can go as his mistress, if she please, but not as my
daughter!"

Silence again. Kyllikki flushed angrily; Olof was hardly able to
restrain himself. But he realised that the two must be left to
themselves for what concerned themselves--he could only make matters
worse.

"Choose," said her father, coldly and with dignity. "And make haste
about it--the fellow here is waiting. But mark this," he added with a
sneer, as confident of victory: "_If_ you go, you go at once. And you
take with you nothing--not a rag nor stitch that was my daughter's.
You go ... _dressed as you came_. You understand!"

The two stood amazed at first, hardly comprehending. Then, as the
meaning of his words dawned on them, in its fearful cruelty, they
looked at him aghast.

"Father ... is that your last word?" asked the girl earnestly.

"Yes!"

Pale and red by turns, she stood hardly seeming to breathe.

The old man's lips curved in a scornful smile. Olof stood waiting his
sentence, unable to think or feel.

Then slowly the girl raised her head, seeming to tower over her
surroundings. She raised her hands without a tremor, slipped the
fastenings of her blouse, and almost before they could realise what
she was doing, she stood bare-armed, bare-throated before them.

The smile faded from the old man's lips. Olof's heart beat with a wild
delight--he felt an impulse to take the girl in his arms and carry her
off.

Calmly she went on--unhooked her skirt and let it slip to the floor
beside her blouse.

The old man's face was ashy pale. Olof tu