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Farwell's temper, never reliable, rose at once. "Quite a Wild West kid, aren't you?" he observed, with sarcasm. "You make me tired. It's a good thing for you your people are decent." He crowded his horse close to the other. "Now, look here, young fellow, I won't stand for any fool boy's talk. You're old enough to know better. Cut it out with me after this, do you hear?"
I would be the last man in the world to cast a suspicion on anyone but " he finished with a shake of his head, and an expression of pious doubt on his crafty face that said he could, if he wished, tell many dark secrets of Miss Farwell's life. Dan was on his feet instantly, his face flaming and his eyes gleaming with indignation.
"Then take it, Tony, take it without pay. That comes of being a doggie. You ought to be grateful that you are a dog, and need not pay!" It was clear to her now that Farwell's home must be her first shelter, and taking up her suit-case she passed over the Green and took the path leading to the master's house. Some one had been before her.
Farwell's invitation, and at four o'clock they arrived, she and Maud. The girls could hardly restrain a gasp of surprise at the sight of Maud. It is hard to realize that other girls grow up as well as yourself, and Polly and Lois still remembered the shy little girl in a pinafore, with straight flaxen hair and blue eyes that Maud had been two summers before.
"Before I go into training," she said, "I must go and see Master Farwell's friend his old friend, you know. I feel very guilty and ungrateful, but it has all been so strange and bewildering, I have seemed dead and done for and then born again, I could not help myself; but I can now. Please tell me all about her, Mr. Boswell, and how I can find her."
Farwell's response came with surprising promptness in the form of a revolver bullet that sang just above Casey's head. By the momentary flash of the weapon his big figure was just discernible standing bent forward, legs wide apart, tense and watchful. As Casey's hand dropped to his automatic, McHale clutched his wrist. "Don't shoot!" he whispered. "I'm not going to hit him," Casey replied.
It was lighter out of doors than in the cottage, for the shades were drawn at Farwell's windows; he disliked the idea of being watched from without. "I can't rest, Master Farwell, till I've done my task," said the poor soul, sinking into the nearest chair. "And it's to get your help I've come." "I'll do what I can," murmured Farwell. "What I'll be permitted to do," he felt would be more true.
His deepest convictions had led him into a ministry that was, to her, the sheerest folly. Hope Farwell's profession had trained her to almost perfect self-control. There was no danger that she would let herself go. Her strong, passionate heart would never be given its freedom by her, to the wrecking of the life upon which it fixed its affections.
It amazed and delighted me to see how gloriously Madeleine White swayed and tip-toed through the figures of the "Cotillion," and the sweet aloofness of Agnes Farwell's face filled me with worship. I envied Edwin Blackler his supple grace, his fine sense of rhythm, and especially the calm audacity of his manner with his partners.
Better let her think she is having her own way, or she may take it!" "I'll break her will!" muttered Glenn. "And if you do what then?" "She'll fall into line women do! Their life takes it out of them. Once I get her on the right track, she'll go straight enough. There's no other way for her sex, thank God!" "She'd be a poor, despicable thing if she was cowed." Contempt rang in Farwell's voice.
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