The calm was coming back to Frances' manner; she felt herself yet mistress. "Sit down; I will show you what a Virginia kitchen is like. I'll bake you a cake," she added, with a saucy air, for all the fear that was tugging at her heart, "if you are a good boy." "I was never good!" he blazed. "No," thoughtfully; "well, it's good to be truthful. I'll give you a cake for that." "I want none of your cakes!" Frances opened wide her innocent-seeming eyes, though her lip trembled. "I want you!" She leaned back against the table's edge as he came close to her. She clenched her hands, striving for the hot words she wanted, which would not come. "I love you; you know it--" Her eyes flashed blazing denial. "Will you marry me?" For one instant heart and pulse stopped. "Marry him--marry him--" All her fancies and conclusions were whirling in her brain; flirtations, of which she had accused him, were not apt to go so far. "You know how I love you, long for you. Why have you kept this distance between us, Frances?" He put his hands on her shoulders and looked down into her drooping face. "You will be my wife?" but at that word a sudden swift memory smote him icy cold and speechless. Frances looking shyly up thought it anxiety for her answer. Into the gray eyes came stealing, flashing, the look he had dreamed of, had resolved to kindle there and read, himself glorified as he read. With a sob in his breath he caught her to him. "Frances," he began hurriedly, soon as speech would come, "there is something I must tell you now, you must know--" but Frances, covered with confusion, was pulling away from him. She had heard Susan's step outside, "Susan is coming," she panted. Lawson gave her one passionate look, that hardened into triumphant love as he gazed deep into her eyes. "So be it," he said within himself; "I accept!" He slipped through the doors, closing them as he went. When Susan came into the kitchen he was softly shutting the outer one. He went triumphant. For one instant the joy of possession had fought with a deeper and higher love, but desire had won. XV Through the hours of that night Frances heard the strong north wind about the house, singing the song of vibrant trees on the mountain-tops or the low tones of the rolling hills and narrow valleys. All night she knew the world outside grew cold and colder, while the mist clouds which had condensed into rain in the early evening were swept from the sky. As the fire in her grate burned low and the insistent wind rattled at window and door and blew in gusty breaths down the chimney's mouth, the furniture contracting and snapping, made weird noises which mingled with the clashings of the maples on the quadrangle.