"She's a mighty headstrong girl," said Eliza. "Sot in her ways an' sp'iled a good deal by goin' to school down to St. Louis." "Her mother don't want her to marry Lapelle. She's dead sot ag'inst it. It's a mighty funny way fer the girl to act, when she's so fond of her mother. I can't understand it in her. All the more reason fer her to stick to her mother when it's a fact that the old woman ain't got what you'd call a friend in the whole deestrict. She's a queer sort of woman,--close an' stingy as all get out, an' as hard as a hickory log. Never been seen at a church meetin'. She makes her daughter go whenever there's a meetin', but as fer herself,--no, sirree. 'Course, I understand why she's so sot ag'inst Barry. She's purty well off an' the girl will be rich some day." "Shucks!" exclaimed Eliza. "Barry Lapelle's after her 'cause she's the purtiest girl him or anybody else has ever seen. He ain't the only man that's in love with her. They ALL are,--clear from Lafayette to Terry Hut, an' maybe beyond. Don't you tell me it's her money he's after, Phin Striker. He's after HER. He's got plenty of money himself, so they say, so why--" "I ain't so sure about that," broke in her husband. "There's a lot of talk about him gamblin' away most everything his father left him. Lost one of his boats last winter in a poker game up at Lafayette, an' had to borrer money on some land he's got down the river to git it back. The packet Paul Revere it was. Used to run on the Mississippi. I guess she kinder lost her head over him," he went on musingly. "He's an awful feller with women, so good-lookin' an' all, an' so different from the farm boys aroun' here. Allus got good clothes on, an' they say he has fit a couple of duels down the river. Somehow that allus appeals to young girls. But I can't understand it in her. She's setch a level-headed girl,--but, then, I guess they're all alike when a good-lookin' man comes along. Look at Eliza here. The minute she sot eyes on me she--" "I didn't marry you, Phin Striker, because you was purty, let me tell you that," exclaimed Eliza, witheringly. Gwynne, who had been listening to all this with a queer sinking of the heart, interrupted what promised to develop into an acrimonious wrangle over pre-connubial impressions. He was decidedly upset by the revelations; a vague dream, barely begun, came to a sharp and disagreeable end. "She actually had planned to run away with this man Lapelle?" he exclaimed, frowning. "It was all arranged?" "So I take it," said Striker. "She brought some of her personal trinkets with her, but Eliza never suspected anything queer about that." "The fellow must be an arrant scoundrel," declared the young man angrily. "No gentleman would subject an innocent girl to such--"