may say to you in London," proceeded
Neelie, "I insist on your coming back for me. I positively decline to
run away, unless you promise to fetch me."

Allan promised for the second time, on his sacred word of honor, and at
the full compass of his voice. But Neelie was not satisfied even yet.
She reverted to first principles, and insisted on knowing whether Allan
was quite sure he loved her. Allan called Heaven to witness how sure he
was; and got another question directly for his pains. Could he solemnly
declare that he would never regret taking Neelie away from home? Allan
called Heaven to witness again, louder than ever. All to no purpose!
The ravenous female appetite for tender protestations still hungered
for more. "I know what will happen one of these days," persisted Neelie.
"You will see some other girl who is prettier than I am; and you will
wish you had married her instead of me!"

As Allan opened his lips for a final outburst of asseveration, the
stable clock at the great house was faintly audible in the distance
striking the hour. Neelie started guiltily. It was breakfast-time at
the cottage--in other words, time to take leave. At the last moment her
heart went back to her father; and her head sank on Allan's bosom as she
tried to say, Good-by. "Papa has always been so kind to me, Allan," she
whispered, holding him back tremulously when he turned to leave her. "It
seems so guilty and so heartless to go away from him and be married in
secret. Oh, do, do think before you really go to London; is there no
way of making him a little kinder and juster to _you_?" The question was
useless; the major's resolutely unfavorable reception of Allan's letter
rose in Neelie's memory, and answered her as the words passed her lips.
With a girl's impulsiveness she pushed Allan away before he could
speak, and signed to him impatiently to go. The conflict of contending
emotions, which she had mastered thus far, burst its way outward in
spite of her after he had waved his hand for the last time, and had
disappeared in the depths of the dell. When she turned from the place,
on her side, her long-restrained tears fell freely at last, and made the
lonely way back to the cottage the dimmest prospect that Neelie had seen
for many a long day past.

As she hurried homeward, the leaves parted behind her, and Miss Gwilt
stepped softly into the open space. She stood there in triumph, tall,
beautiful, and resolute. Her lovely color brighte