any life
at all! That's what I want,--life, my own life, not what anybody else
gives me of theirs. Why shouldn't I have what they have, even if it's
bad now and then? Don't save me in spite of myself! Nobody likes to be
saved in spite of themselves."

It was a long speech for Mellony. A large moon had risen, and from the
low horizon sent golden shafts of light almost into the room; it was as
if the placidity of the night were suddenly penetrated by something more
glowing. Mellony stood looking down at her mother, like a judge. Mrs.
Pember gazed at her steadily.

"I'm going to save you, Mellony," she said, her indomitable will making
her voice harsher than it had been, "whether you want to be saved or
not. I'm not going to have you marry, and be sworn at and cuffed."
Mellony moved to protest, but her strength was futility beside her
mother's at a time like this. "I'm not going to have you slave and grub,
and get blows for your pains. I'm going to follow you about and set
wherever you be, whenever you go off with Ira Baldwin, if that'll stop
it; and if that won't, I'll try some other way,--I know other ways. I'm
not going to have you marry! I'm going to have you stay along with me!"

With a slight gesture of despair, Mellony turned away. The flash had
burned itself out. The stronger nature had reasserted itself. Silently,
feeling her helplessness, frightened at her own rebellion now that it
was over, she went out of the room to her own smaller one, and closed
the door.

Mrs. Pember sat silent in her turn, reviewing her daughter's resentment,
but the matter admitted no modifications in her mind; her duty was
clear, and her determination had been taken long ago. Neither did she
fear anything like persistent opposition; she knew her daughter's
submissive nature well.

Brought up in a country village, an earnest and somewhat apprehensive
member of the church, Mrs. Pember had married the captain early in life,
under what she had since grown to consider a systematic illusion
conceived and maintained by the Evil One, but which was, perhaps, more
logically due to the disconcerting good looks and decorously restrained
impetuosity of Captain Pember himself. Possibly he had been the victim
of an illusion too, not believing that austerity of principle could
exist with such bright eyes and red cheeks as charmed him in the country
girl. At least, he never hesitated subsequently, not only to imply, but
to state baldly, a sense of