you'll get her for a wife."

"There's nothing but slaving for a woman round here," Mrs. Braley put
in. "I'm right glad Phebe had so much spirit."

Richmond Braley evidently thought it was time for certain reservations.
"You mustn't come down so hard on Calvin and me," he said practically.
"We're both likely young fellows."

"I'll be here evening after to-morrow," Calvin told Hannah in a low
voice.

She nodded without interest. They must be married at once, he decided,
his wise horse following unerringly the rocky road, stepping through
splashing dark fords. If there was a repetition of the past visit he
would have something to say. Hannah was his, she was promised to him.
He felt the coolness of her cheeks, her bright mouth against his. A
tyranny of misery and desire flooded him at the sudden danger--it was
as much as that--threatening his happiness and life.

It was a danger founded on his entire ignorance of what he must combat.
He couldn't visualize it, but it never occurred to him that Hannah
would actually go away--leave him and Greenstream. No, it was a quality
in Hannah herself, a thing that had always lurked below the surface,
beyond his knowledge until now. Yet he realized that it formed a part
of her appeal, a part of her distinction over the other girls of the
county.

Maybe it was because he was never in his heart absolutely certain of
her--even when she was closest to him she seemed to slip away beyond