Bates to-day." He left the room. She heard
him stride across the veranda and walk hurriedly away. She went to the
window and tried to catch another glimpse of him, but he was out of
sight. She turned into the next room. Her mother was there packing
some table linen into the bottom of a wardrobe.

"Mother," the girl faltered, "Mr. Westerfelt asked me just now to go to
the camp-ground with him."

Mrs. Floyd let a table-cloth which she was folding hang down in front
of her for a moment as she looked at Harriet. "Well, you told him you
was going with Bascom Bates, didn't you?"

"Yes, of course, but--"

"Well, what of it? I wish you'd just look what a mess the rats have
gone and made of this linen. They've been trying to gnaw the starch
out of it, and have cut holes in nearly every piece."

"He looked mad, mother; he pretended he didn't care, but I never saw
such a look on anybody's face. Oh, mother--"

"Harriet!" Mrs. Floyd looked straight into the girl's eyes as she
closed the wardrobe door and turned the key. "Looky' here, I'm older
than you, and I know men a sight better. Mr. Westerfelt is a nice man
and a good enough catch, but he's got plenty of faults. You've just
got to listen to reason. Some men will despise a girl quicker for
letting themselves be run over than anything else, and he's one of that
sort. He has deliberately insulted you by throwing up a delicate
matter to you, which God knows you couldn't help, and now--well, he's a
purty thing to dictate to you who you go with--"

"Mother, something was wrong with his mind when he said that,"
interrupted Harriet. "He's just gettin' well, that's all. Oh, mother,
he loves me--I know he does--I know it! I'll bet he hardly remembers
what he said. And now this old Bascom Bates has come between us."

Mrs. Floyd was moved, in spite of her desire to hold her ground.

"Yes," she admitted, "I think he acts like he loves you, and after
staying away so long, his wanting to go with you to-day looks powerful
like he has come to his senses at last. But you will spoil it all if
you slight another respectable man to please him. That's the long and
short of it. Now, you take my advice and give him as good as he sends
every time, and a little more to boot. It's a woman's right."

"Mother, you don't know Mr. Westerfelt; he--"

"La! yes, I do; they are every one p'int-blank alike. They want what
they can't get, and what other men have, a sight more t