He
was more hurt mentally than physically, and inwardly boiled to get even
with our hero.

Left to himself, he hardly knew what to do. He was satisfied that his
horse would go home as Jack had said, but he was in no humor to follow
the animal.

"I've a good mind to call on Aunt Alice and tell her what a viper he
is," he said to himself. "Perhaps I can get her to think less of him
than she does--and that will be something gained."

He walked slowly toward the plantation. When he came within sight of the
garden he saw Marion in a summerhouse, arranging a bouquet of flowers
which she had just cut.

The sight of his cousin put his heart in a flutter and made him think of
the talk he had had with his mother. Why should he not propose to her at
once? The sooner the better, to his way of thinking. That Marion might
refuse him hardly entered his head. Was he not the best "catch" in that
neighborhood?

"How do you do, Marion?" he said, as he strode up to the summerhouse.

"Why, St. John, is that you?" returned the girl. "I did not see you
riding up."

"I came on foot," he went on, as he came in and threw himself on a
bench. "It's warm, too."

"It is warm. Shall I send for some refreshments?"

"No, don't bother just now, Marion. I came over to see you alone."

"Alone?" she said in some surprise.

"Yes, alone, Marion. I have something very important to say to you."

She did not answer, but turned away to fix the bouquet.

"Can you guess what I wish to say?" he went on awkwardly.

"I haven't the remotest idea, Cousin St. John."

"I want to tell you how much I love you, Cousin Marion."

"Oh!"

"Don't think that I speak from sudden impulse. I have loved you for
years, but I wished to wait until you were old enough to listen to me."

"And you think I am old enough now?" she said, with a faint smile.
"Mamma thinks me quite a girl still."

"You are old enough to marry, if you wish, Marion."

"Marry?" She laughed outright. "Oh, St. John, don't say that. Why, I
don't intend to marry in a long, long time--if at all."

His face fell, and he bit his lip. Certainly this was not the answer he
had expected.

"But I want you!" he burst out, still more awkwardly. "I want to--to
protect you from--er--from Jack."

"Protect me from Jack?"

"Yes, Marion. You know what he is, a mere nobody."

"Jack is my brother."

"He is not, and you know it."

"He is the same as if he were my brother, St. John."

"Again I say he