it lie
there while she wept and rested. To her the temptation meant a
personal shame. She resisted it with all her strength. The struggle
left her pale and very calm. At last the way of duty was clear. This
day should settle it once for all. There must be no renewal of this
man's suit. He must go.

It was Mary Ellen's wish to be driven quickly to the house, but she
reckoned without the man. With a sudden crunching of the wheels the
buggy turned and spun swiftly on, headed directly away from home.
"I'll just take you a turn around the hill," said Franklin, "and then
we'll go in."

The "hill" was merely a swell of land, broken on its farther side by a
series of _coulees_ that headed up to the edge of the eminence. These
deep wash-cuts dropped off toward the level of the little depression
known as the Sinks of the White Woman River, offering a sharp drop, cut
up by alternate knifelike ridges and deep gullies.

"It isn't the way home," said Mary Ellen.

"I can't help it," said Franklin. "You are my prisoner. I am going to
take you--to the end of the world."

"It's very noble of you to take me this way!" said the girl with scorn.
"What will my people think?"

"Let them think!" exclaimed Franklin desperately. "It's my only
chance. Let them think I am offering you myself once more--my
love--all of me, and that I mean it now a thousand times more than I
ever did before. I can't do without you! It's right for us both. You
deserve a better life than this. You, a Beauchamp, of the old Virginia
Beauchamps--good God! It breaks my heart!"

"You have answered yourself, sir," said Mary Ellen, her voice not
steady as she wished.

"You mean--"

"I am a Beauchamp, of the old Virginia Beauchamps. I live out here on
the prairies, far from home, but I am a Beauchamp of old Virginia."

"And then?"

"And the Beauchamps kept their promises, women and men--they always
kept them. They always will. While there is one of them left alive,
man or woman, that one will keep the Beauchamp promise, whatever that
has been."

"I know," said Franklin gently, "I would rely on your word forever. I
would risk my life and my honour in your hands. I would believe in you
all my life. Can't you do as much for me? There is no stain on my
name. I will love you till the end of the world. Child--you don't
know--"

"I know this, and you have heard me say it before, Mr. Franklin; my
promise was given long ago. You tell me