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Rh this. Timothy, come back this instant! Row me back to Mersea. I have not come here to be insulted. I will not speak another word with you unless you" "For heaven's sake," cried Timothy, tearing down the sea-wall and jumping into the boat. "come in, Phœbe, at once, or I shall be off and leave you!" "What is the matter now?" He had his knife out, and was hacking through the cord that attached his boat to Dowsing's. In another moment he was rowing as hard as he could down the creek. Admonition appeared on the wall. Timothy had detected her crossing the marsh, and fled. She turned in fury on Phœbe. Mehalah withdrew to the windmill, away from their angry voices, and remained sitting by the sea till the shadows of evening fell. Then she returned, a fixed determination in her face, which was harder and more moody than before.

She walked deliberately to the hall, opened the door, and stepped in. Elijah was there, crouched over the empty hearth, as though there was a fire on it. He looked up. "Well, Glory?" Her bosom heaved. She could not speak. "You have something to say," he proceeded. "Won't the words come out? Do they stick?" His wild dark eye was on her.

"Elijah," she said, with burning brow and cheek, "I give up. I will marry you."

He gave a great shout and sprang up. "Listen patiently to me," she said, with difficulty controlling her agitation. "I will marry you, and take your name, but only to save mine. That is all, I will neither love you, nor live with you, save as I do now. These are my terms. If you will take them, so be it. If not, we shall go on as before." He laughed loudly, savagely. "I told you, Glory, my own, own Glory, what must be. You would not come under my roof, but you came. You would not marry me—now you submit. You will not love me—you must and shall. Nothing can keep us apart. The poles are drawing together. Perhaps there may be a