aintances--he compels
you to sit almost excluded in a town where you are an acknowledged
belle. Young gentlemen are afraid to call on you."

"Well, I don't know that it would be exactly proper," she replied.

"And," he went on, lifting his voice, "the strangest part of it is
that you quietly submit to this treatment when there is a way to free
yourself. And I request you to make use of it."

He got up, went to the mantel-piece, took up a sea-shell, put it down,
turned his back to the fire place, stood there a moment and strode
out.

"You must do as he commands," said the mother.

"I can't."

"Don't say that. You must. I have thought it over, and I know it's for
the best."

"You have permitted him to think it over, and you hope it is for the
best," the daughter replied.

CHAPTER XV.

MUST LEAVE THE TOWN.

At eleven o'clock the next day, Zeb Sawyer was to meet McElwin at the
bank. The hour was tolled off by a grim old clock standing high in a
corner, a rare old time piece with a history, or at least a past, of
interest to McElwin, for it had been bought at the forced sale of
fixtures belonging to a defunct bank. It struck with solemn
self-importance, as if proclaiming the hour to foreclose a mortgage;
and though not given to this sort of reflective speculation, McElwin
must have been vaguely influenced by its knell-like stroke, for he
nearly always glanced up as if a tribute were due to its promptness. A
few minutes later Zeb Sawyer was shown into the room. The banker had
been sitting in deep thought, with his legs stretched forth, and with
his hands in his pockets, but he turned about when the clock struck,
and as Sawyer entered the office he was busy with papers on a table in
front of him.

"Good morning, Zeb; sit down."

"Hard at it, I see," said the young man, taking a seat at the opposite
side of the table.

"Yes, day and night. No rest for the wicked, you know."

"I don't know as to that," Sawyer replied, "but I do know that there
is mighty little rest for the man that wants to do anything in the
world."

"You are right. The gospel of content builds poor houses. I never knew
a happy man who wasn't lazy."

"You ought to go to Congress, McElwin; they need such talk there."

"They need a good many qualities that they are not likely to get." He
put his papers aside, and leaning with his arms on the table looked
into the eyes of his visitor. "My daughter has developed into a
thinking woma