“Won’t I?” she asked; and he was aware of a strange pathos in her glance, and that her head constantly shook a little. “Won’t I? I’m going to stop speaking to everybody, Dan, before long.” “But you look so well, grandma; you oughtn’t to talk like that.” “Never mind. My talking is about over, but I’m going to tell you something you may remember when I can’t talk any more at all. Your father and mother won’t even try to have any influence with you; they haven’t raised their children the way I did mine. Your father and mother have always been too easy-going with you to really help you by disciplining you when you wanted to do anything wrong, and they’ll both act the gentle fool with you now, just as they always have about everything. They won’t stop you from going ahead with this photograph girl.” “No,” Dan said gently;—“and nothing could stop me, grandma. I told you she’s the finest, most beautiful——” “Be quiet!” the old lady cried. “How much of that same sort of twaddle do you suppose a body’s heard in a life of ninety-two years? How many times do you suppose I’ve had to listen to just such stuff? Good heavens!” “But, grandma——” “You listen to _me_!” she said with sudden ferocity. “You don’t know anything about the girl, and you don’t know anything about yourself. At your age you don’t know anything about anything. You don’t even know you don’t know. And another thing you don’t know is, how much you’ve told me about this girl and her family without knowing it.” “Grandma, I told you they’re fine people and——” “Fine people!” she said bitterly. “Oh, yes! And how have they treated you?” “Why, aren’t they givin’ me their—their dearest treasure? Doesn’t that show how they——” “Yes, doesn’t it?” she interrupted. “It shows how much of a treasure _they_ think she is!” “Grandma——” “You listen! You’re a splendid young man, Dan Oliphant. You’re good-looking; you’re honourable as the daylight; you’re kindhearted, and you’d be just as polite to a nigger or a dog as you would to the President; and anybody can tell all that about you by just looking at you once. But this good-for-nothing girl and her good-for-nothing family have made you feel you weren’t anybody at all, and ought to feel flattered to scrub their doormat! Don’t tell me! They have! And because you let yourself get as soft as a ninny over a silly little pretty face, you truckle to ’em.” “Grandma!” He laughed despairingly. “I haven’t been truckling to anybody.” “You have, and she’ll keep you at it all your life!” the old lady said angrily. “_I_ know what that face means. I’ve seen a thousand just like it! She’ll use you and make you truckle to _be_ used! And if you give in to her and live in her town, she’ll despise you. If you make her come and live in your town, she’ll hate you. But she’ll always keep you truckling. Your only chance is to get rid of her.”