The flush deepened on young Henderson's face. "Oh! that I was running after her, was I? Well, I haven't caught her yet, Elsie," he said, with an uneasy laugh. "Oh, don't jest about it, Tom, don't laugh; it was a cruel thing to say--cruel to me." The young man did not speak; he cast his brown eyes down on the path; he moved the arm restlessly with which he was carrying his gun. "Of course she just said it from spite--just because she knew--" continued the girl, hesitatingly. Then Henderson looked up. "What does she know, Elsie?" he said, glancing at the girl's face. Her lips quivered and her bosom heaved as he asked the question. "What everyone must soon know, Tom," she answered; "what you are and must be to me." An expression of great annoyance contracted Henderson's features. "And you mean to say you have talked to this woman?" he said, angrily. "I have not said much," she replied, half-sullenly, "but she knows." "Then you are a fool for your pains." He said this roughly enough, and a sudden rush of tears filled the poor girl's eyes as he spoke. "It can't go on, Tom!" she cried, piteously, "your father's dead now; you know you always promised to marry me when your father died." "This is folly," muttered Henderson, under his thick mustache. "What is folly?" asked the girl, sharply, looking up. "This talk about our marriage--it's an old story, Elsie, and we may as well drop it." The change in her expression was something terrible, as she listened to these heartless words. She grew deadly pale, and her whole frame trembled. "Drop it--never!" she repeated, with passionate earnestness. "Tom, if you hate me now you must marry me; I will kill myself or you if you don't." "It's no good talking folly." "It's not folly; it's truth, as there is a God above us it is truth! What, after all, after all," and she wrung her hands, "you would go back! But you shall not, Tom! You may think to throw me over because you are tired of me, and take up with another girl, but there are two words to that--I will go to Miss Churchill myself--" "If you do," interrupted Henderson, with a fierce oath, "I will strike you dead!" "You can't strike me worse than you've struck me now, but strike me or not, I'll do what I say unless you keep your word." She stood there defying him, with her eyes gleaming and her hands clenched. She was a handsome woman, of a certain type, with a clear brown skin and thick, coarse black hair. She looked also determined and passionate, and perhaps Henderson was afraid to excite her further. At all events he moderated his tone. "Well, don't make any more row," he said; "we can talk it over some other time." "But it must be settled, Tom; I can't wait," she answered. An evil look came over Tom Henderson's face. "You are always worrying a man," he said; "there's no such wonderful hurry about it, and there's my mother to consider."