all their conversation, thoughts, and her very pattern of life.
"Well now—that's a sensible girl. Just you forget young Boltwood. He never was good enough for my girl."
The black curls withdrew from his shoulder, and the girl jumped from the arm of the chair, and said very gravely:
"Now, Father, listen. We might as well settle it once for all. Don't you ever say another word against Ben, or, much as I love you I'll leave you—yes—leave you. Something tells me he isn't lost, but if he were," here the voice faltered but she went on heroically,—"if—he were, and something I can't see now—made me marry someone else, I'd never forget him."
Like most bullying souls Captain Fell was awed and frightened by this rebellion. For all the youthful curls, Sally's black head held a good measure of wisdom. Too many dutiful wives she had seen cringe and efface themselves under the tyranny of their men-folk. She had never cringed, though she had done a lot of effacing herself, sometimes beyond what was politic or even necessary, hating rows as all really feminine women do. But she could turn, and after that explosion Captain was much more careful. Yet it did not hinder him, a few days before Halloween, from endorsing another invitation of Phil's, though he was a little less peremptory about it.
"Please go," Philip had urged, in the parlour into which Aunt Abigail had ushered him, smilingly for once. And wild and as unscrupulous as he was, the boy could be quite winning and gentle when he wanted something very badly.
