there!" he said
soothingly, as he tenderly touched her wet cheek, "dry your eyes, dear,
and be comforted. It is only your welfare and happiness I seek. We'll
say nothing more just now; after awhile you'll see differently; and I
predict that before many months have gone by, you will not only be
reconciled to marrying James, but will be happy in the shelter of his
love, and will thank me for having urged you to accept him."

"Never!" exclaimed Betsy, drawing back defiantly. "I shall never again
listen to him, nor to you even, upon this subject. I dislike him
exceedingly, and I love Abner Dudley with my whole heart. Marry James
Drane! The very thought of such a thing fills me with loathing. I have
no confidence in his truth and integrity. I would beg my bread rather
than be his wife."

"I'll lock you up!" cried Gilcrest, exasperated beyond bounds, his
momentary tenderness completely vanquished by the girl's words. "I'll
starve you on bread and water, you insolent, outrageous fool!"

"O Hiram! Hiram! don't!" wailed Mrs. Gilcrest. "Don't be so hard. I can
not bear it! Oh, what shall I do! what shall I do!" and she wept and
trembled, and wrung her hands, until her husband and her daughter were
alarmed.

"This is your work," he said to Betsy, as he bent over his hysterical
wife. "You are breaking your mother's heart, you obstinate vixen. Ring
the bell for Dilsey, at once. Remain where you are, until I return," he
added to Betsy when Aunt Dilsey had obeyed the summons, and was
assisting him to carry his wife upstairs.

His anger had cooled somewhat when he returned to the parlor half an
hour later. "I can not, of course, force you to marry any one," he said
to his daughter; "nor for the present will I urge upon your
consideration the suit of Mr. Drane, against whom you have taken so
unreasoning and unjust a prejudice; but there's another point upon
which I must do my duty without shrinking. I command you to give up
thinking of Abner Dudley, now and forever."

"I can give you no such obedience," Betsy replied. "I am his promised
wife; but even though loving him as I do, I would give him back his
troth, if you could show just and adequate reason why I should.
Instead, you give no reason whatever."

"Is not my wish reason enough?" he asked, desiring to spare her the
humiliating knowledge of Abner's low birth, and the fact that he had
given her back her freedom.

"No, sir, it is not. I am no longer a child, to be made to