best. She had no joy in the thing she was going to do. Of her love she
was not sure and of her lover very unsure. A bell of warning rang faintly
in her heart as she waited for the hours to slip away.

A very little would have turned the tide. But she nursed her anger
against her father, fed her resentment with the memory of all his wrongs
to her. When at last she crept through the window to the dark porch
trellised with wild cucumbers, she persuaded herself that she was going
only to tell Dave Roush that she would not join him.

Her heart beat fast with excitement and dread. Poor, undisciplined
daughter of the hills though she was, a rumor of the future whispered in
her ears and weighted her bosom.

Quietly she stole past the sassafras brake to the big laurel. Her lover
took her instantly into his arms and kissed the soft mouth again and
again. She tried to put him from her, to protest that she was not going
with him. But before his ardor her resolution melted. As always, when he
was with her, his influence was paramount.

"The boat is under that clump of bushes," he whispered.

"Oh, Dave, I'm not goin'," she murmured.

"Then I'll go straight to the house an' have it out with the old man," he
answered.

His voice rang gay with the triumph of victory. He did not intend to let
her hesitations rob him of it.