interest the story of her uncle and the money-bags would have for him.
She related it, and he was roused. Then, for the third time, she told
him of Dahlia.

Rhoda saw her father's chest grow large, while his eyes quickened with
light. He looked on her with quite a strange face. Wrath, and a
revived apprehension, and a fixed will were expressed in it, and as he
catechized her for each particular of the truth which had been concealed
from him, she felt a respectfulness that was new in her personal
sensations toward her father, but it was at the expense of her love.

When he had heard and comprehended all, he said, "Send the girl down to
me."

But Rhoda pleaded, "She is too worn, she is tottering. She cannot endure
a word on this; not even of kindness and help."

"Then, you," said the farmer, "you tell her she's got a duty's her first
duty now. Obedience to her husband! Do you hear? Then, let her hear it.
Obedience to her husband! And welcome's the man when he calls on me.
He's welcome. My doors are open to him. I thank him. I honour him. I
bless his name. It's to him I owe--You go up to her and say, her father
owes it to the young man who's married her that he can lift up his head.
Go aloft. Ay! for years I've been suspecting something of this. I tell
ye, girl, I don't understand about church doors and castin' of her
off--he's come for her, hasn't he? Then, he shall have her. I tell ye,
I don't understand about money: he's married her. Well, then, she's his
wife; and how can he bargain not to see her?"

"The base wretch!" cried Rhoda.

"Hasn't he married her?" the farmer retorted. "Hasn't he given the poor
creature a name? I'm not for abusing her, but him I do thank, and I say,
when he calls, here's my hand for him. Here, it's out and waiting for
him."

"Father, if you let me see it--" Rhoda checked the intemperate outburst.
"Father, this is a bad--a bad man. He is a very wicked man. We were all
deceived by him. Robert knows him. He has known him for years, and knows
that he is very wicked. This man married our Dahlia to get--" Rhoda
gasped, and could not speak it. "He flung her off with horrible words at
the church door. After this, how can he claim her? I paid him all he had
to expect with uncle's money, for his promise by his sacred oath never,
never to disturb or come near my sister. After that he can't, can't
claim her. If he does--"

"He's her husband," interrupted the farmer; "when he comes here, he's
w