Rita's continued aversion to Williams, instead of cooling that young man's ardor, fired it to a degree previously unknown in the cool-blooded Williams family. He had visited his cultured home for the purpose of dilating upon the many charms of body, soul, and mind possessed by this fair girl of the wilderness. His parents, knowing him to be a young man of sound Mayflower judgment and worthy to be trusted for making a good, sensible bargain in all matters of business, including matrimony, readily gave their consent, and offered him his father's place at the head of the agricultural firm, in case he should marry. They were wise enough to know that a young man well married is a young man well made; and they had no doubt, judging from Roger's description, that Rita was the girl of girls. Williams did not tell his parents that up to that time his wooing had been in vain, and they, with good reason, did not conceive it possible that any girl in her right mind would refuse their son. Roger was willing, Roger's parents were willing, Rita's parents were eager for the match; every person and everything needful were on his side, save one small girl. Roger thought that trifling obstacle would soon yield to the pressure of circumstances, the persuasion of conditions, and the charm of his own personality. He and the conditions had been warring upon the small obstacle for many months, and still it was as small as ever--but no smaller. The non-aggressive, feather-bed stubbornness of insignificant obstacles is often very irritating to an enterprising soul. Williams was a fine, intellectual fellow, and his knowledge of human nature had enabled him to estimate--at least to approximate--the inestimable value of the girl he so ardently desired. Her rare beauty would, he thought, grace a palace; while her manifold virtues and good common-sense would accomplish a much greater task, and grace a home. Added to these reasons of state was a passionate love on the part of Williams of which any woman might have been proud. Williams was, ordinarily, sure-footed, and would have made fewer mistakes in his wooing had his love been less feverish. He also had a great fund of common-sense, but love is inimical to that rare commodity, and under the blind god's distorting influence the levelest head will, in time, become conical. So it happened that, after many months of cautious manoeuvring, Williams began to make mistakes.