herself, passionately; "I must speak to
his son."

But her throat was dry at the thought. It seemed as if it would kill her
to speak to a man on such a subject, even to as little of a man as
Cyrus. But, poor, shy tigress! to save her mother, what would she not
do? In her pain and fright she said to Mrs. North that if that old man
kept on making her uncomfortable and conspicuous, they would leave Old
Chester!

Mrs. North twinkled with amusement when Mary, in her strained and
quivering voice, began, but her jaw dropped at those last words; Mary
was capable of carrying her off at a day's notice! The little old lady
trembled with distressed reassurances--but Captain Price continued to
call.

And that was how it came about that this devoted daughter, after days of
exasperation and nights of anxiety, reached a point of tense
determination. She would go and see the man's son, and say ... That
afternoon, as she stood before the swinging glass on her high bureau,
tying her bonnet-strings, she tried to think what she would say. She
hoped God would give her words--polite words; "for I _must_ be polite,"
she reminded herself desperately. When she started across the street her
paisley shawl had slipped from one shoulder, so that the point dragged
on the flagstones; she had split her right glove up the back, and her
bonnet was jolted over sidewise; but the thick Chantilly veil hid the
quiver of her chin.

Gussie met her with effusion, and Mary, striving to be polite, smiled
painfully, and said:

"I don't want to see you; I want to see your husband."

Gussie tossed her head; but she made haste to call Cyrus, who came
shambling along the hall from the cabin. The parlor was dark, for though
it was a day of sunshine and merry May wind, Gussie kept the shutters
bowed--but Cyrus could see the pale intensity of his visitor's face.
There was a moment's silence, broken by a distant harmonicon.

"Mr. Price," said Mary North, with pale, courageous lips, "you must
stop your father."

Cyrus opened his weak mouth to ask an explanation, but Gussie rushed in.

"You are quite right, ma'am. Cyrus worries so about it (of course we
know what you refer to). And Cyrus says it ought to be checked
immediately, to save the old gentleman!"

"You must stop him," said Mary North, "for my mother's sake."

"Well--" Cyrus began.

"Have you cautioned your mother?" Gussie demanded.

"Yes," Miss North said, briefly. To talk to this woman of her mothe