any other man, and you shall treat me fairly."

The girl, in alarm, struggled to free herself from his grasp, but he
held her and continued:--

"No other man can give you the love I feel for you, and you shall
respond to it."

"It is impossible, Mr. Williams," she said pleadingly. "You do not know
all. I am sorry, so sorry, to give you pain." Her ever ready tears began
to flow. "But I do not feel toward you as you wish. I--there is another.
He is--has been very near to me since I was a child, and I have promised
to be his wife this long time."

Her words were almost maddening to Williams, and he retorted as if he
were, in truth, mad.

"That country fellow? You shall never marry him! I swear it! He is a
poor, supercilious fool and doesn't know it! He has nothing in this
world, and has never seen anything beyond the limits of his father's
farm."

"He has been to New York," interrupted Rita, in all seriousness.

Williams laughed. "I tell you he is a boor. He is a--"

"He is to be my husband, Mr. Williams, and I hope you will not speak
ill of him," said Rita, with cold dignity.

"He is not to be your husband," cried Williams, angrily. "You shall be
mine--mine; do you hear? Mine! I will have you, if I must--" he caught
the girl in his arms, and pressing her head back upon the bend of his
elbow, kissed her lips to his heart's content and to his own everlasting
undoing. When he released her she started from the room, but he,
grasping her arm, detained her, saying:--

"Rita, I beg your pardon. I lost my head. I am sorry. Forgive me."

"There can be no forgiveness for you," she said, speaking slowly, "and I
wish you to let me leave the room."

"Rita, forgive me," he pleaded. "I tell you I was insane when I--I did
that. You have almost driven me mad. You can surely forgive me when you
know that my act was prompted by my love. Your heart is ready with
forgiveness and love for every one but me, and I, more than all others,
love you. I beg you to forgive me, and if I cannot have your love,
forget what I have done this night and again be my friend."

After a long, painful pause, she spoke deliberately: "I would not marry
you, Mr. Williams, if you were a king, or if I should die by reason of
refusing you. I cannot now be even your friend. I shall tell my father
and brother what you have done, and they will order you out of this
house. I will tell Dic, and he will kill you!" Her eyes, usually so
gentle, were hard and co