"My aunt, sir, is within; if you have business, I will inform her of
your presence."

"My business is with you, Miss Weems," and, dismounting, he passed
through the gate and stepped quickly to her side.

"Why do you avoid me?"

Her dark eye flashed in the twilight, and she drew her slight form up
till it seemed to gain a foot in height.

"We do not seek to enlarge our social circle, Mr. Rawbon. You will
excuse me if I leave you abruptly, but the night dew begins to fall."

She moved on, but he followed and placed his hand gently on her arm.
She shook it off with more of fierceness than dignity, and the man's
eyes fairly sought the ground beneath the glance she gave him.

"You know that I love you," he said, in a hoarse murmur, "and that's the
reason you treat me like a dog."

She turned her back upon him, and walked, as if she heard him not, along
the garden path. His brow darkened, and quickening his pace, he stepped
rudely before her and blocked the way.

"Look you, Miss Weems, you have insulted me with your proud ways time
and time again, and I have borne it tamely, because I loved you, and
because I've sworn that I shall have you. It's that puppy, Harold Hare,
that has stepped in between you and me. Now mark you," and he raised his
finger threateningly, "I won't be so meek with him as I've been with