"I do," was the adamant response.
At the brutal tone a swift change came over the girl. While an infinite suffering looked out of her eyes she stood erect and proud.
"Do you also command that I shall accept Chesley Sykes in Ned's place?"
Her voice had the ring that had shaken the confidence of Sykes but a short time before. He felt the danger in it and tempered his reply.
"No, Mary! I don't command. I urge you."
"But you have as much right to command me to marry Chesley Sykes as you have to forbid my friendship with Ned Pullar. Why not, then?"
McClure paused a moment, calculating her intention.
"I have the right to do either," was the triumphant reply. There was a threat in his voice.
The girl looked at him a moment, her face aquiver with pain. The anguish of her emotion blanched cheeks and lips. She addressed him in a voice strange for its quality of renunciation.
"Father," said she, "your words are terrible to me. They mean that you would deprive me of your affection—of my home. You have not the right to command me to do a wrong. That is not the prerogative of even a parent. As for Chesley Sykes, I abhor him as unscrupulous and cruel. The more I know of him the less I can discover to admire. I will never marry him. On the other hand, some day I shall marry Ned. You misunderstand him. He is not your enemy. He would be a real friend. I shall be forced to disobey you, Father."