en fierce kisses. "Come
with me tomorrow night, and we'll get married and--and--"

Tess was trying heroically to hold to the principle she knew was right,
even though her heart directed otherwise.

"Not less'n I tell Daddy," she breathed back.

Her low denial served only to lock Frederick's arms more tightly around
her.

"You've got to come and you mustn't tell him, either," he urged. "You
mustn't!"

Succeeding at last in releasing herself, Tessibel sighed. She wanted to
be firm with him, to impress lovingly upon him her reason for refusing
him; but when he reached forth and folded her again in his arms, that
fine firmness gave way. She burst into wild weeping, holding him close
as he held her, trying through broken sobs to tell him what was
burdening her heart.

"It air like this, dear," she wailed, dismally. "Oh, I want to marry ye
more'n anything, but I've never deceived Daddy a bit in all my life. I
never done nothin' less'n I told 'im, and, Oh, I want to tell him,
Frederick! I do want to tell 'im!"

Frederick hadn't anticipated this resistance on Tessibel's part.

"Tess," he said, almost angrily, "I wouldn't ask you to do anything
wrong." Then softening, he pleaded accusingly, "You don't love me well
enough to be my wife."

"It'd be wicked," whispered Tess, falteringly.

"It would be right!" cried Frederick, in quick contradiction. "Tess, you
will, you will!"

The red curls shook slowly a mute negation.

"I don't believe you love me at all," groaned Frederick. Then taking a
long breath, "You want me to be unhappy, I know you do."

She lay limply in his arms while through the sensitive, honest mind
raced all the objections against his desire. There were his powerful
friends--his college--his--

"Yer mother--don't want ye to marry me," she cried, suffering.

"I know it," returned Frederick, promptly. "Still a man can't _always_
please his mother. Why, darling, what kind of a world would this be if
mothers picked out their sons' wives? A poor place! I can tell you."

"But yer mother air awful good and loves ye just like Daddy loves me,"
argued Tessibel, "an' when ye don't do right, everything goes wrong. If
Daddy Skinner ain't to know--"

"Nor anybody else," cut in the boy, growing moody after his sharp
retort. "I won't have any one know about it. Tessibel, I want this more
than anything else in the world. I love you--I love you, and you love
me. Then why not? You do love me, don't you?"

"That