you have for
that poor fellow will soon pass away. It must. You've got plenty of
chances. Jim Taylor--"

"Why do you speak of him, father?"

"I speak of him because he loves you--because he is as fine a young
fellow as walks the face of the earth."

"But, father, he is so big and strong that he doesn't need any one to
love him."

At this the Major appeared not to know whether to laugh or to frown.
But he did neither; he sat for a time with his hands on his knees,
looking wonderingly, almost stupidly at her; and then he said:
"Nonsense. Where did you pick up that preposterous idea? So strong that
he doesn't need love! Why, strength demands love, and to a big man the
love of a little woman--" She drew back from him as he leaned toward her
and he did not complete the sentence. Her impatience made him frown.
"Won't you let me reason with you?" he asked. "Won't you help me to
suppress all appearance of displeasure?"

"It is of no use," she replied.

"What is of no use? Reason?"

"Argument."

"What! Do you mean--"

"I mean that I am going to marry him."

In her eyes there was no appeal, no pleading, for the look that she gave
him was hard and determined. Harsh words flew to the Major's mind, and
he shook with the repression of them; but he was silent. He shoved his
hands into his pockets and she heard his keys rattling. He arose with a
deep sigh, and now, with his hands behind him, walked up and down the
room. Suddenly he faced about and stood looking down upon her, at the
rose in her hair.

"Louise, one night on a steamboat there was a rollicking dance. It was a
moonlight excursion. There was a splash and a cry that a woman had
fallen overboard. I leaped into the river, grasped her, held her head
above the stream, fighting the current. A boat was put out and we were
taken on board, and then by the light of a lantern I found that I had
saved the life of my own daughter. So, upon you, I have more than a
father's claim--the claim of gallantry, and this you cannot disregard,
and upon it I base my plea."

She looked up straight at him; her lips were half open, but she said
nothing.

"You don't seem to understand," he added, seeming to stiffen his
shoulders in resentment at the calmness with which she regarded him. "I
tell you that I waive the authority of a father and appeal to your
gratitude; I remind you that I saved your life--leaped into the cold
water and seized you, not knowing whose life I was striving t