iousness that his lithe and graceful burden was somewhat
in the way of any heroic expression.

"Seth can lick you out of your boots, chile," she said with naive
abstraction. Then, as he struggled to secure an upright position, "Don't
git riled, honey. Of course you'd let them kill you before YOU'D give
in. But that's their best holt--that's their trade! That's all they can
do--don't you see? That's where YOU'RE not like THEM--that's why you're
not their low down kind! That's why you're my boy--that's why I love
you!"

She had thrown her whole weight again upon his shoulders until she had
forced him back to his seat. Then, with her locked hands again around
his neck, she looked intently into his face. The varying color dropped
from her cheeks, her eyes seemed to grow larger, the same look of rapt
absorption and possession that had so transfigured her young face at
the ball was fixed upon it now. Her lips parted slightly, she seemed to
murmur rather than speak:--

"What are these people to us? What are Seth's jealousies, Uncle Ben's
and Masters's foolishness, Paw and Maw's quarr'ls and tantrums to you
and me, dear? What is it what THEY think, what they reckon, what they
plan out, and what they set themselves against--to us? We love each
other, we belong to each other, without their help or their hindrance.
From the time we first saw each other it was so, and from that time Paw
and Maw, and Seth and Masters, and even YOU and ME, dear, had nothing
else to do. That was love as I know it; not Seth's sneaking rages, and
Uncle Ben's sneaking fooleries, and Masters's sneaking conceit, but
only love. And knowing that, I let Seth rage, and Uncle Ben dawdle, and
Masters trifle--and for what? To keep them from me and my boy. They were
satisfied, and we were happy."

Vague and unreasoning as he knew her speech to be, the rapt and perfect
conviction with which it was uttered staggered him.

"But how is this to end, Cressy?" he said passionately.

The abstracted look passed, and the slight color and delicate mobility
of her face returned. "To end, dandy boy?" she repeated lazily. "You
didn't think of marrying me--did you?"

He blushed, stammered, and said "Yes," albeit with all his past
vacillation and his present distrust of her, transparent on his cheek
and audible in his voice.

"No, dear," she said quietly, reaching down, untying her little shoe and
shaking the dust and pine needles from its recesses, "no! I don't know
en