a in spite of you," said Billy, "if you don't take her
soon. What do you say? Shall we bring her home with us to-morrow? She
was eighteen last week." Billy was eager to carry off the girl, for he
knew the Williams danger, and stood in dread of it. Dic sprang from his
chair, delighted with the proposition. The thought of possessing Rita
to-morrow carried with it a flood of rapturous emotions.

"How can we bring her?" he asked. "We can't kidnap her from her mother."

"Perhaps Rita may be induced to kidnap herself," remarked Billy. "If we
furnish the plan, do you believe Rita will furnish the girl? Will she
come with us?" You see Billy, as well as Dic, was eloping with this
young lady.

"Yes, she will come when I ask her," returned Dic, with confidence.

After staring at the young man during a full minute, Billy said: "I am
afraid all my labor upon you has been wasted. If you are so great a fool
as not--do you mean to say you have never asked her to go with you--run
away--elope?"

"I have never asked her to elope," returned Dic, with an expression of
doubt in his face. Billy's words had aroused him to a knowledge of the
fact that he was not at all the man for this situation.

"You understand it is this way," continued Dic, in explanation of his
singular neglect. "Rita does not see her mother with our eyes. She
believes her to be a perfect woman. She believes every one is good; but
her mother has, for so many years, sounded the clarion of her own
virtues, that Rita takes the old woman at her own valuation, and holds
her to be a saint in virtue, and a feminine Solomon in wisdom. Rita
believes her mother the acme of intelligent, protecting kindness, and
looks upon her cruelty as the result of parental love, meant entirely
for the daughter's own good. I have not wanted to pain my future wife by
causing a break with her mother. Should Rita run off with me, there
would be no forgiveness for her in the breast of Justice."

"The girl, doubtless, could live happily without it," answered Billy.

"Not entirely happy," returned Dic. "She would grieve. You don't know
what a tender heart it is, Billy Little. There is not another like it in
all the world. Had it not been for that consideration, I would have been
selfish enough to bring her home with me when she offered to come, and
would--"

"Mighty Moses!" cried Billy, springing to his feet. "She offered to go
with you?"

"Yes," replied Dic; "she said when last I saw her, 'Yo