The captain smiled and talked.
“Miss Jeffries, I am the owner of one of the finest farms in the State of Ohio. I am alone in the world—friendless. Will you grace that home?—will you make me happy by being my wife? I love you fondly.”
He spoke this in his sweetest tone, and with his most tender glance, encircling her waist with his arm. She drew away abruptly, and stammered:
“Oh, sir, you can not, you must not talk so to me! You must not—it is wrong for me to listen to you. Please let me go.”
She was flushed and irresistibly lovely. He looked at her quietly for a moment, then caught her in his arms passionately and kissed her hotly.
“My darling!” he passionately cried.
She struggled, ashamed, insulted, shocked at his tones and gestures. He held her tightly, and pressed another kiss upon her.
Walter, watching them jealously from the doorstep, saw the disturbance, and, mad with jealousy and rage, rushed toward them. She escaped from Downing’s arms just as he reached them, and glided to her lover’s side.
“What do you mean, you rascal?” huskily growled Walter, through his clenched teeth.
“Rascal? Take care, young whipper-snapper!”