Those difficulties, what could they be that she might not know them? If this tantalizing, and yet, withal, most fascinating, of created beings, truly loved her--loved her in love's highest sense, and with no thought of deception, would he at every turn put her off with honeyed words and paltry evasions? Would he have said, "You must really consent to be guided blindly by my judgment in this matter," if he valued her as she valued him? Of one thing she was sure; she would be guided blindly by no human being, man or woman, in anything. "_No, I won't!_" she audibly informed the dew-damp lilies and the secretive rose, stamping her foot to impress it upon their understanding. Catch any wide-awake, thoroughly independent, altogether self-sufficient and splendidly educated American girl going it blind at any man's behest! She would make short work of his courtship, and him too--first. Still pacing distractedly up and down the garden path, Mell heard a window open, saw a head protrude, and heard a voice, which said: "Send 'im ter his namesake, Mell. Let 'im git thar before he gits the better o' you!" "So he shall, father." "Then go ter bed." "I am going now--going to bed," she continued, communing with herself--"to bed, but not to the meadow Thursday morning. I'll cut my throat from ear to ear, just before I start to the meadow again at the bidding of Jerome Devonhough!" Bravo for Mell! Strong in this determination, she is now comparatively safe, except for the one menacing fear, that this sentimental feeling she has for Jerome may interfere with the more serious business of life. Love was all well enough in its way, but what this country maiden panted for, was a new life on a higher plane, with or without love. It was the thing her education demanded. It was the thing she intended to accomplish. After all, she went to bed in very good spirits. She was tolerably sure of bringing Jerome to her own terms, and if not--well, not to make a sad subject likewise tedious, Mell, in spite of all her love for Jerome, was as much for sale as ever. CHAPTER III. A TOTAL ECLIPSE. Nothing ever turns out just as we expect.