e interpreted it
rightly, was one of repulsion. "Please stop, Professor Parkhill," she
gasped in a tone of disgust.

He was surprised, and not a little chagrined. "Am I to understand that
you do not reciprocate my sentiment, Miss Reid? Is it possible that I
have been so mistaken?"

Kitty turned her head, as though she could not bear even to look at him.
"What you ask is so impossible," she said in a low tone. "Impossible!"

Strive as she might, the young woman could not altogether hide her
feeling of abhorrence. And yet, she asked herself, why should this man's
proposal arouse in her such antagonism and repugnance? He was a scholar,
famed for his attainments in the world of the highest culture. As his
wife, she would be admitted at once into the very inner circle of that
life to which she aspired, and for which she was leaving her old home
and friends. He had couched his proposal in the very terms of the
spiritually and intellectually elect; he had declared himself in that
language which she had so proudly thought she understood, and in which
she had so often talked with him; and yet she was humiliated and
ashamed. It was, to her, as though, in placing his offer of marriage
upon the high, pure ground of a spiritual union, he had insulted her
womanhood. Kitty realized wonderingly that she had not felt like this
when Phil had confessed his love for her. In her woman heart, she was
proud and glad to have won the love of such a man as Phil, even though
she could not accept the cowboy as her mate. On that very spot which the
professor had chosen for his declaration, Patches had told her that she
was leaving the glorious and enduring realities of life for vain and
foolish bubbles--that she was throwing aside the good grain and choosing
the husks. Was this what Patches meant? she wondered.

"I regret exceedingly, Miss Reid," the professor was saying, "that the
pure and lofty sentiments which I have voiced do not seem to find a like
response in your soul. I--"

Again she interrupted him with that gesture of repulsion. "Please do not
say any more, Professor Parkhill. I--I fear that I am very human, after
all. Come, it is time that we were returning to the house."

All through the remaining hours of that afternoon and evening Kitty was
disturbed and troubled. At times she wanted to laugh at the professor's
ridiculous proposal; and again, her cheeks burned with anger; and she
could have cried in her shame and humiliation. An