"Because they can't--not yet," he whispered. "Not a soul must know. Just you and I, darling. It'll be all right, dear, and I need you more and more--every day." The deepening tones in his voice frightened, while they thrilled her. She pressed him back to look into his eyes, but even through the growing gloom she could see the blue-veined lids were closed. "Frederick," she murmured, drawing her face backward. "Frederick, let me tell ye somethin'. Everybody had ought to know when a girl gets married. Oh, they ought to know, so they ought. Daddy Skinner an' yer mother, too." Then of a sudden she was attacked by a strange tugging in her own heart. She tried to free herself from his arms, but her resistance only made him the more determined to bend her to his wish. She had always been submissive, and he'd worshiped her for her womanly acquiescence to his will. Trembling fingers forced her face upward and hot lips sought and found hers. She shivered under the strong masculine pressure. "Now listen to me, my love," he continued between fierce kisses. "Come with me tomorrow night, and we'll get married and--and--" Tess was trying heroically to hold to the principle she knew was right, even though her heart directed otherwise. "Not less'n I tell Daddy," she breathed back. Her low denial served only to lock Frederick's arms more tightly around her. "You've got to come and you mustn't tell him, either," he urged. "You mustn't!" Succeeding at last in releasing herself, Tessibel sighed. She wanted to be firm with him, to impress lovingly upon him her reason for refusing him; but when he reached forth and folded her again in his arms, that fine firmness gave way. She burst into wild weeping, holding him close as he held her, trying through broken sobs to tell him what was burdening her heart. "It air like this, dear," she wailed, dismally. "Oh, I want to marry ye more'n anything, but I've never deceived Daddy a bit in all my life. I never done nothin' less'n I told 'im, and, Oh, I want to tell him, Frederick! I do want to tell 'im!" Frederick hadn't anticipated this resistance on Tessibel's part. "Tess," he said, almost angrily, "I wouldn't ask you to do anything wrong." Then softening, he pleaded accusingly, "You don't love me well enough to be my wife." "It'd be wicked," whispered Tess, falteringly. "It would be right!" cried Frederick, in quick contradiction. "Tess, you will, you will!" The red curls shook slowly a mute negation. "I don't believe you love me at all," groaned Frederick. Then taking a long breath, "You want me to be unhappy, I know you do." She lay limply in his arms while through the sensitive, honest mind raced all the objections against his desire. There were his powerful friends--his college--his-- "Yer mother--don't want ye to marry me," she cried, suffering.