left no thought of his mother's blood mingling with it. "But," he said
gravely, "believing this, why did you change?"

"Because I could hold out no longer. I should have gone crazy. Times I
wanted to take some of those meek nuns, some of those white-faced pupils
with their blue eyes and wavy flaxen hair, and strangle them. I couldn't
strive and pray and struggle any longer THERE, and so I came here to
let myself out! I suppose when I get married--and I ought to, with my
money--it may change me! You don't suppose," she said, with a return of
her wild-animal-like timidity, "it is anything that was in FATHER, in
those ATHERLYS,--do you?"

But Peter had no idea of anything but virtue in the Atherly blood; he
had heard that the upper class of Europeans were fond of field
sports and of hunting; it was odd that his sister should inherit this
propensity and not he. He regarded her more kindly for this evidence of
race. "You think of getting married?" he said more gently, yet with a
certain brotherly doubt that any man could like her enough, even
with her money. "Is there any one here would--suit you?" he added
diplomatically.

"No--I hate them all!" she burst out. "There isn't one I don't despise
for his sickening, foppish, womanish airs."

Nevertheless, it was quite evident that some of the men were attracted
by her singular originality and a certain good comradeship in her ways.
And it was on one of their riding excursions that Peter noticed that she
was singled out by a good-looking, blond-haired young lawyer of the town
for his especial attentions. As the cavalcade straggled in climbing
the mountain, the young fellow rode close to her saddle-bow, and as