was a moment of
sharp clicking at the door latch, as if a nervous hand had touched it,
and then Millie broke into the room. Her face was white, her hair hung
about her shoulders.

"You have kept me away!" she cried, stamping her feet and frowning at
her father. "Yes, you have kept me away, but I have come and I hate
you."

The old General was stupefied. "You may tell your cold-blooded son what
to do," she went on, "but my heart is my own. He asked me to marry him
and I will--I will break into the penitentiary and marry him. And you
would have had me marry Dan Stuart. Just before he was killed he told me
he would kill Alf if I said I loved him. I will go to the jail and marry
him there."

She ran to Guinea, and they put their arms about each other and wept;
and the old woman pressed her book to her bosom and sobbed over it.
Through old Lim's wire-like beard a smile, hard and cynical, was
creeping out, and the General was fiercely struggling with himself. He
had bitten his lip until his mouth was reddening with blood.

"Come, you are going home with me," he said.

"I am not!" his daughter cried, with her arms tight about Guinea. "I am
not; I am going to the jail."

"Then I will take you home."

"Don't touch me!" she cried, shrinking back into a corner. "Don't touch
me, for I am almost mad. What do I care for your pride? What do I care
for the old graveyard? You have tried to break my heart, but I will
marry him. He is worth ten thousand such men as your cold-blooded son.
Don't you touch me, father. Mr. Hawes!" she screamed, "don't let him
touch me."

The old General had stepped forward as if to lay hands upon her, but he
stepped back, bowed and said: "You are a lady and I am a gentleman, and
these facts protect you from violence at my hands, but I here denounce
you--no, I don't, my daughter. I cannot denounce my own flesh and blood.
I will leave you here to-night, hoping that when this fit of passion is
over reason will lead you home. Good-night."

CHAPTER XV.

Long we sat there in a calm, after the General left us; and the two
girls, on a bench in a corner, whispered to each other. How wild had
been my guessing at the character of Millie! How could one so shy, so
gentle, so fond of showing her dimples, cast off all timidity and set
herself in opposition to her father's authority and pride? I could but
argue that she was wrong, that she had forgotten her duty, thus to stand
out and violently defy him