n't be so hard on her," pleaded his wife. But the
Squire had the true huntsman's instinct--when he went out to hunt, he
went out to kill.

"The time has come," he continued, raising his voice and ignoring his
wife's pleading, "when this home is better without her."

Anna had already begun her preparation to go. She took her cloak down
from its peg and wrapped it about her without a word.

"Father, if Anna goes, I go with her," and David rose to his feet, the
very incarnation of wrath, and strode over to where Anna stood apart
from the rest. He put his arm about her protectingly, and stood there
defiant of them all.

"David, you must be mad. What, you, a son of mine, defy your father
here in the presence of your friends for that--adventuress?"

"Father, take back that word about Anna. A better woman never lived.
You--who call yourself a Christian--would you send away a friendless
girl a night like this? And for what reason? Because a few old cats
have been gossiping about her. It is unworthy of you, father; I would
not have believed it."

"So you have appointed yourself her champion, sir. No doubt she has
been trying her arts on you. Don't be a fool, David; stand aside, if
she wants to go, let her; women like her can look out for themselves;
let her go."

"Don't make me forget, sir, that you are my father. I refuse
absolutely to hear the woman I love spoken of in this way."

The rest looked on in painful silence; they seemed to be deprived of
the power of speech or action by the Squire's vehemence; the wind
howled about the house fitfully, and was still, then resumed its
wailing grief.

"And you stand there and defy me for that woman in the presence of
Kate, to whom you are as good as betrothed?"

"No, no; there is no question of an engagement between David and me,
and there never can be," said Kate, not knowing in the least what to
make of the turn that things had taken.

David continued to stand with his arm about Anna. He had heard the
Belden gossip--a wealthy young man from Boston had been attentive to
her, then left the place; jilted her, some said; been refused by her,
said others. It did not make a bit of difference to David which
version was true; he was ready to stand by Anna in the face of a
thousand gossips. This was just his father's brutal way of upholding
what he was pleased to term his authority.

"What do you know about her, David?" reiterated the Squire. "I heard
reports, b