to this sweet
blending of concordant harmonies, disturbed upon a sudden Mell's
unwonted peace of soul. She heard her father's voice. He was saying:
"Don't truss him, Mell; don't truss him."

"How can I be patient," she asked, with a touch of her old petulance,
"unless I know why it is you treat me so? Jerome, tell me your
difficulties."

"And by so doing increase them? No. My hands are full enough as it is,
and to have you incessantly fretting and fuming about little crooked
things which all the fretting in creation won't straighten out, would
be more than I could stand. Melville, you must really consent to be
guided blindly by my judgment in this matter. I have studied the
subject carefully, and it is only for a little while, sweet. We are
young, we can afford to take things easy."

"Men of pluck," exclaimed Mell, with spirit, "don't take things easy!
They grip hold of things and turn them into moulds of purpose."

"Do they, little wiseacre? Then, manifestly, I am not a man of pluck.
I am made of weak stuff, a feeble straw, perhaps, in your estimation,
tossed about by every little puff of air! Ha! ha! ha! How little you
know about me, Mell!"

"That is true," responded Mell, promptly, adding, with that lively
turn of expression which gave such zest to her conversation, "very
little, and that little nothing to your credit!"

Jerome was amused. He laughed and stopped, and forthwith laughed
again.

"Ah, Melville, you charm me afresh at every meeting. Where do you get
all your _sauce piquant_? Beside you for life, that old meddling
busy-body, _ennui_, will never get a single chance at a fellow. Your
name ought to be Infinite Variety."

"And yours," retorted Mell, with the quickness he enjoyed, "Palpably
Obscure! But here we are at my own gate. Fasten your horse and come
in."

Her voice was absolutely pleading.

"I would with ever so much pleasure, but--that whip is yet to be
found, and the riders will be coming back. I must at once rejoin them.
Good night, Mell."

"Good-night," responded Mell, from the other side of the gate, and in
angered tones, "Jerome, have I not spoken plainly enough to you? Must
I repeat that I am not your toy--not your plaything--but a resolute
woman, determined to maintain my own respect and to accept nothing
less than yours? You shall not so much as make free with the tip end
of this little finger of mine, until--"

"Well," said Jerome, "let me know the worst. When will that terrib