Adela ceased walking, and faced round upon him, at the same time brushing away with one hand a tress of her crispy black hair, which the wind had blown across her eyes. She wanted to meet his gaze directly. "What do you mean by that?" she demanded. Dennis was her match for belligerency. "I mean," he said, "that that ar youngster takes up too much 'tention. Thar ar'n't no time for considerin' on no one else. It's allays Sylv's ways and Sylv's idees, and he can't do nothin' for himself, but some one else hev got to do it for him. An' here am I, one month arter another, findin' the ways for him and aunty to live, lettin' alone myself; whiles he goes smellin' arter them old books what's made o' yaller hide that ain't no better than the skin off'n our Sukey's back. An' that's whar the bits and the dollars go, that you and I might be enjoyin' if 'twarn't for his dog-goned concayt of lawyer's jawin' and politics and parla_ments_. That's what! An' I'm tired on it, I tell ye. What I mean?" Here the young fellow's handsome, free-colored face became clouded with passion that darkened it as with the shadows of a thunder-cloud. "I mean, Deely, that if you are a-goin' to put Sylv up agin me, every chance comes along, thinkin' o' his good and not o' mine, ye're not nigh so lovin' o' me as ye are o' him. D'ye un'stan' me, now?" Adela shrank back slightly, as if he had levelled a sudden blow at her. Then she replied: "If that's all ye got to say to me, Dennie De Vine, ye can just go back on your tracks to the cabin, and I'll go to the Quarters alone." Dennis forgot his anger in anxiety. "But there's the tide-way ye can't cross," he said. "I've done it afore now, by myself," replied the girl. "'Twant for nothin' you learned me to row and sail. Ah, Dennie"--her under-lip trembled as she spoke--"it ar'n't right in you to treat me so. If you'd only remember those times when we were children! You was always good to me, then. Why ar'n't you good to me now? I feel just the same about you as I did in those way-off days. I never loved any but you--and old dad." The poor child's head was drooping, as she finished; and, but for pride, she would have wept. "All right, then, Deely," began Dennis. "If that's so, I'm sorry--I started for to say, I'm glad. Only, give me your squar' promise that you won't let him stand in the way no more. I've kept my hand to the helm, and I've waited. I've been waitin' a long time. Sylv won't never be no 'count, if he go on as he ar', and we won't be no 'count, nuther. Only say the word that you'll marry me soon, and that you ain't goin' to let Sylv stand in the way." "But you said I cared more for him than I do for you," Adela objected, less inclined to make peace than before. "Well then, you can say you don't," he suggested. "No, I'll never tell you so!" she cried, her eyes flashing. She laid a hand upon her bosom, which was heaving. "There's somethin' here, Dennie, makes it hard to say it. I can't! I can't!"