few inches to admit the air, but was fastened there, and he could not
stir it. He began to call and whistle in as low and penetrating a tone
as he could manage, and at last awoke Maud, whose bed was only a few
feet away. She started up with a low cry of alarm, but saw in a moment
who it was.

"Well, what on earth are you doing here? Go away this minute, or I'll
call my father."

"Let me in, and I will tell you."

"I'll do nothing of the sort. Begone this instant."

"Maud, don't be foolish," he pleaded, in real alarm, as he saw that she
was angry and insulted. "I have done as you told me. I have wealth for
us both, and I have"--he had almost betrayed himself, but he
concluded--"I have come to take you away forever."

"Come to-morrow, at a decent hour, and I will talk to you."

"Now, Maud, my beauty, don't believe I am humbugging. I brought a lot
of money for you to look at--I knew you wanted to be sure. See here!"
He drew from his pocket a package of bank bills--he saw a glittering
stain on them. He put them in the other pocket of his coat and took out
another package. "And here's another, I've got a dozen like them.
Handle 'em yourself." He put them in through the window. Maud was so
near that she could take the bills by putting out her hand. She saw
there was a large amount of money there--more than she had ever seen
before.

"Come, my beauty," he said, "this is only spending-money for a bridal
tour. There are millions behind it. Get up and put on your dress. I
will wait below here. We can take the midnight train east, be married
at Clairfield, and sail for Paris the next day. That's the world for
you to shine in. Come! Waste no time. No tellin' what may happen
tomorrow."

She was strongly tempted. She had no longer any doubt of his wealth. He
was not precisely a hero in appearance, but she had never insisted upon
that--her romance having been always of a practical kind. She was about
to assent--and to seal her doom--when she suddenly remembered that all
her best clothes were in her mother's closet, which was larger than
hers, and that she could not get them without passing through the room
where her parents were asleep. That ended the discussion. It was out of
the question that she should marry this magnificent stranger in her
every-day dress and cotton stockings. It was equally impossible that
she should give that reason to any man. So she said, with dignity:

"Mr. Offitt, it is not proper for me to conti