otic persistency
in backing the attentions of Britt. Being victor over herself in that
conflict with self where so many fail, she felt courage to battle in
another quarter. Since Frank had been penned up where he could
not fight, she had felt that she was the champion for their mutual
interests, and she was resolved to keep on valiantly. "Father, you know
how I stand in the matter of Frank Vaniman."

"I have broken your engagement with that jailbird."

"Vona, I have told you repeatedly that I will never consent to your
marrying that man," shrilled Mrs. Harnden. "What does the Bible say
about obeying your parents?"

The girl was tensely suppressing her emotions. "The outsiders merely
know that I am engaged to marry him. But both of you know that I am
married to him."

Mr. Harnden sat down in order to express his emotions; Mrs. Harnden
stood up. Their duet of disavowal of any such knowledge was keyed high.

"You heard me when I married him--in your presence--under this roof. The
legal formality can wait. But I am married. In my heart I am married.
It is enough for me until he comes back to me. And what God hath joined
together let not man put asunder!" She said it reverently, with all her
soul in her tones, all her woman's resolution of loyalty in her eyes.

They tried to say something, but in the face of her demeanor of firmness
their opposition was futile, and they probably realized it, for they
became silent and allowed her to speak on.

"If you do not choose to consider my feelings in the matter, I'll not
complain. You are master and mistress of the home. I tell you now, as I
have told you before, that if Tasper Britt had come out with the whole
truth Frank would not be in prison. You must not expect that I will sit
at table with a man who has so persecuted my--husband!" She hesitated
a moment before she spoke the last word. She caressed it with loving
inflection. A moment later her cheeks were burning hotly. She went out
into the hall, got her sunshade, and left the house.

She still had her work at the bank; the progress of liquidation was
slow. Tasper Britt, from his office window, saw her coming. She wore no
hat. The parasol framed the face that was still glowing after her battle
for the sanctity of her love.

"It's worth it!" he muttered; but not even to himself did Britt mention
what the price was.

Mr. Harnden's comment, delayed for some minutes, was that the girl was
putting it almighty strong.