She turned and left him before he could think of any excuse to detain her longer. CHAPTER III THE remainder of the night was as unique in its way as its earlier hours had been. On Mary Dunlap's return to her room she found the girl was more composed, and able to talk quietly. "I have had time to think it all out," she said, when Mrs. Dunlap had told what she meant to tell. "Mr. Keller does not understand; his mother died when he was a child and he brought himself up, in a way. He has been a law to himself and to others for so long that he just goes ahead and does what seems best to him. I am sure he meant right. Even that strange part about registering," her face flushed as she spoke, "I can see it was done for my sake. I am so lacking in self-reliance and had been so nervous all day that he felt he could not trust me alone, and took that way of caring for me. But it is no wonder that I am nervous, for I have been doing wrong all day! I did not know it; I thought because I was of age I had a right to decide for myself but I realize that there is a higher law than just a legal one, and I am going home to mother! I am afraid she will feel that she can never trust me out of her sight again, and I do not deserve to be trusted. "It is all very plain to me now, what I ought to do. I shall write to Mr. Keller and tell him that we must wait, and give my mother time to know him, and to learn what a truly noble man he is. Then we must try by all honorable means to win her consent to our marriage. I will not cannot be married till my mother feels right about it." "I think that sounds like a very wise decision," said Mary Dunlap with relief in her voice. "That is what mothers were given for, to help in grave decisions. They seem to have a sort of God-given intuition about the great critical things of life. Remember that if you do not succeed in winning her over, such a mother, as a girl like you must have, surely must have wise reasons for objecting—" "Oh, I'm sure we will succeed," interrupted the girl's voice anxiously. "My mother wants nothing in this world so much as my happiness. But if we cannot, after a reasonable time, convince her that he is worthy of her trust, why then we must just be married, without her consent. I have my own life to live—" she drew herself up proudly with a pitiful assumption of dignity—"I cannot afford to spoil my life and his for the sake of a cruel prejudice." This last was so manifestly an echo from Mr. Keller's philosophy that the listener said not a word, in response, and the eager voice went on.