er had doubtless heard of the
plans that were being laid by Sim Hicks for his forceful ejection from
Little River, and rather than face further trouble was slinking away
like a coward under cover of night and storm.

Her better judgment soon began to form excuses for his action. The
Athletic Club, thoroughly reorganized, had been placed under good
leadership, and Mr. McGowan doubtless thought that the members could
get on without his further aid. In all probability, he feared that his
presence might interfere with the promised consummation of fellowship
between the club and the church, and was leaving quietly so another man
less aggressive than he might accomplish the thing he had so well begun.
Had he remained, he would have been compelled to fight his way through
by brute force. He had been forsaken by all those who should have stood
by him. He was not a coward! He was taking the most difficult course.
His going was the most heroic act of all.

Why had every man's hand been against him? Why had her father not so
much as lifted a finger to stay the persecutors? She drew in her lip
between her teeth, and mercilessly bit the pretty Cupid's arch. She
kicked her foot against a stool till the piece of furniture lay beyond
reach of her toe. Her father had not made a single effort to prevent one
action of those who had set themselves against the minister. Instead, he
had aided them, and in many instances had even led in the opposition
against the young man.

One thought at length inhibited all others. She drew back from the
window, and sinking into a deep chair, covered her face with her arm.
Mack McGowan had gone out of her life! Suddenly, she knew that she loved
him, loved him as passionately as he had declared his love for her. Why
had she been unable to understand him that night on the beach? Had she
really tried? She classed herself with all the others who had been so
blind as to force this man to leave their village.

She jerked the pins from her hair, letting the fair mass fall over her
shoulders. The stand she had taken had been because of the attitude of
her father. He had no right to come between her and the man she loved.
Why had he done it? Her fingers paused in the act of delving for a
buried hairpin, and her arm fell limply over the wing of the chair. A
vision of her father's face had come before her, startling her
imagination. She saw him again as she had seen him that night when
Harold had announced his in