just Matt's opposite, every way; and, of _course_ he would be taken with
her. I'm not a _bit_ surprised. Why it's the most natural thing in the
world."

"It might be very much worse," sighed Mrs. Hilary. "As soon as he has
seen your father, we must announce it, and face it out with people.
Fortunately, it's summer; and a great many have gone abroad this year."

Louise began to laugh. "Even Mr. Northwick is abroad."

"Yes, and I hope he'll stay there," said Mrs. Hilary, wincing.

"It would be quite like Matt, wouldn't it, to have him brought home in
chains, long enough to give away the bride?"

"Louise!" said her mother.

Louise began to cry. "Oh, you think it's nothing," she said stormily,
"for Matt to marry a girl whose father ran away with other people's
money; but a man who has fought his way honestly is disgraceful, no
matter how gifted he is, because he hasn't the traditions of a society
man--"

"I won't condescend to answer your unjust nonsense, my dear," said Mrs.
Hilary. "I will merely ask you if you wish to marry Mr. Maxwell--"

"I will take care of myself!" cried the girl, in open, if not definite
rebellion. She flung from the room, and ran upstairs to her chamber,
which looked across at the chamber where Maxwell's light was burning.
She dropped on her knees beside the window, and bowed herself to the
light, that swam on her tears, a golden mist, and pitied and entreated
it, and remained there, till the lamp was suddenly quenched, and the
moon possessed itself of the night in unbroken splendor.

After breakfast, which she made late the next morning, she found Maxwell
waiting for her on the piazza.

"Are you going over to the camp?" she asked.

"I was, after I had said good-by," he answered.

"Oh, we're not going for several hours yet. We shall take the noon
train, mamma's decided." She possessed herself of the cushion, stuffed
with spruce sprays, that lay on the piazza-steps, and added, "I will go
over with you." They had hitherto made some pretence, one to the other,
for being together at the camp; but this morning neither feigned any
reason for it. Louise stopped, when she found he was not keeping up with
her, and turned to him, and waited for him to reach her. "I wanted to
speak with you, Mr. Maxwell, and I expect you to be very patient and
tractable." She said this very authoritatively; she ended by asking,
"Will you?"

"It depends upon what it is. I am always docile if I like a thing."