on't yo' want ter marry Lawson,
Nella-Rose?"

"No, I wouldn't have him if he asked me. It would be like marrying a
tree that the freshet was rolling about. I'm not going to seek and hide
with any man."

"Why don't yo' let Marg have 'im then? She'd be a right smart
responsibility."

"She can have him and welcome, if she can find him!" Then, hearing her
sister outside, she called:

"Come in, Marg. Shut out the cold and the dark. What's the use of acting
like a little old hateful?"

Marg slouched in; there was no other word to describe her indifferent
and contemptuous air.

"He's coming around?" she asked, nodding at her father.

"Yes--he's come," Nella-Rose admitted.

"All right, then, I'm going to tell him something!" She walked over to
her father and stood before him, looking him steadily in the eyes.

"I--I killed the hog to-day;" she spoke sharply, slowly, as to a dense
child. Peter Greyson started.

"You--you--did that?"

"Yes. While you were off--getting drunk, and while Nella-Rose was
traipsing back there in the Hollow I killed the hog; but I'll never do
it again. It sickened the soul of me. I'm as good as Nella-Rose--just as
good. If you can't do your part, father, and she _won't_ do hers, that's
no reason for me being benastied with such work as I did to-day. You
hear me?"

"Sure I hear you, Marg, and I'm plumb humiliated that--that I let you.
It--it sha'n't happen again. I'll keep a smart watch next year. A
gentleman can't say more to his daughter than that--can he?"

"Saying is all very well--it's the doing." Marg was adamant. "I'm going
to look out for myself from now on. You and Nella-Rose will find out."

"What's come to you, Marg?" Peter looked concerned.

"Something that hasn't ever come before," Marg replied, keeping her eyes
on Nella-Rose. "There be times when you have to take your life by the
throat and strangle it until it falls into shape. I'm gripping mine
now."

"It's the killing of that hog!" groaned Peter. "It's stirred you, and I
can't blame you. Killing ain't for a lady; but Lord! what a man you'd
ha' made, Marg!"

"But I ain't!" Marg broke in a bit wildly, "and other things are not
for--for women to do and bear. I'm through. It's Nella-Rose and me to
share and share alike, or--"

But there was nothing more to say--the pause was eloquent. The three ate
in silence for some moments and then talked of trivial things. Peter
Greyson went early to bed and the sisters washed th