She has not said so, but--" the words were
very hard for him, yet he stuck manfully to the truth; "but she told me
to write to my father and let him know what I had done, and not to come
back to her until I had his answer. This," he added, wondering that a man
could listen to such a thing without a sign, "this was before--before she
had any idea of coming home."

Yes, Cynthia, did love him. There was no doubt about it in Jethro's mind.
She would not have bade Bob write to his father if she had not loved him.
Still Jethro did not speak, but by some intangible force compelled Bob to
go on.

"I shall write to my father as soon as he comes back from the West, but I
wish to say to you, Mr. Bass, that whatever his answer contains, I mean
to marry Cynthia. Nothing can shake me from that resolution. I tell you
this because my father is fighting you, and you know what he will say."
(Jethro knew Dudley Worthington well enough to appreciate that this would
make no particular difference in his opposition to the marriage except to
make that opposition more vehement.) "And because you do not know me,"
continued Bob. "When I say a thing, I mean it. Even if my father cuts me
off and casts me out, I will marry Cynthia. Good-by, Mr. Bass."

Jethro took the young man's hand again. Bob imagined that he even pressed
it--a little--something he had never done before.

"Good-by, Bob."

Bob got as far as the door.

"Er--go back to Harvard, Bob?"

"I intend to, Mr. Bass."

"Er--Bob?"

"Yes?"

"D-don't quarrel with your father--don't quarrel with your father."

"I shan't be the one to quarrel, Mr. Bass."

"Bob--hain't you pretty young--pretty young?"

"Yes," said Bob, rather unexpectedly, "I am." Then he added, "I know my
own mind."

"P-pretty young. Don't want to get married yet awhile--do you?"

"Yes, I do," said Bob, "but I suppose I shan't be able to."

"Er--wait awhile, Bob. Go back to Harvard. W-wouldn't write that letter
if I was you."

"But I will. I'll not have him think I'm ashamed of what I've done. I'm
proud of it, Mr. Bass."

In the eyes of Coniston, which had been waiting for his reappearance, Bob
Worthington jumped into the sleigh and drove off. He left behind him
Jethro Bass, who sat in his chair the rest of the morning with his head
bent in revery so deep that Millicent had to call him twice to his simple
dinner. Bob left behind him, too, a score of rumors, sprung full grown
into life with his visit. Men