in his father's house.

His father was a hard, proud, unflinching man, who loved and
indulged his son, after his fashion and possibility; but who would
never love or indulge him again if he offended in such a thing as
this. His mother was a woman who simply could not understand that a
girl like Bel Bree was a creature made by God at all, as her
daughters were, and her son's wife should be.

"Do you care enough for me?"

Bel stood utterly still. She had never been asked any such questions
before, but she felt in some way, that this was not all; ought not
to be all; that there was more he was to say, before she could
answer him.

He came toward her. He put his hands on hers. He looked eagerly in
her eyes. He did not hesitate now; the man's nature was roused in
him. He must make her speak,--say that she cared.

"_Don't_ you care? Bel--you do! You are my little wife; and the
world has not anything to do with it!"

She broke away from him; she shrunk back.

"Don't do that," he said, imploringly. "I'm not bad, Bel. The world
is bad. Let us be as good and loving as we can be in it. Don't think
me bad."

There was not anything bad in his eyes; in his young, loving,
handsome face. Bel was not sure enough,--strong enough,--to
denounce the evil that was using the love; to say to that which was
tempting him, and her by him, as Peter's passionate remonstrance
tempted the Christ,--"Thou art Satan. Get thee behind me."

Yet she shrunk, bewildered.

"I don't know; I can't understand. Let me go now Mr. Hewland."

She turned away from him, into the chamber, and reached her hand to
the door as she turned, putting her fingers on its edge to close it
after him. She stood with her back to him; listening, not looking,
for him to go.

He retreated, then, lingeringly, across the threshold, his eyes upon
her still. She shut the door slowly, walking backward as she pushed
it to. She had _left_, if not driven the devil behind her. Yet she
did not know what she had done. She was still bewildered. I believe
the worst she thought of what had happened was that he wanted to
marry her secretly, and hide her away.

"Aunt Blin!" she cried, when she felt herself all alone. "Aunt
Blin!--She _can't_ have gone so very far away, quite yet!"

She went over to the closet, with her arms stretched out.

She went in, where Aunt Blin's clothes were hanging. She grasped the
old, worn dress, that was almost warm with the wearing. She hid her
face