"Where you goin'?" her father demanded roughly as he followed her out on the porch.
She did not answer, but walked on to the gate. In an instant he had overtaken her and stood squarely in her path.
"Where you goin' to?" he repeated.
"To town, to board at the store."
He dragged her, almost by main force, back into the house, and all that evening kept a watch upon her until he knew that she was in bed.
Next morning, Tillie carried her bundle of clothing to school with her, and at the noon recess she went to the family who kept the village store and engaged board with them, saying she could not stand the daily walks to and from school.
When, at six o'clock that evening, she had not returned home, her father drove in to the village store to get her. But she locked herself in her bedroom and would not come out.
In the next few weeks he tried every means of force at his command, but in vain; and at last he humbled himself to propose a compromise.
"I'll leave you have some of your money every month, Tillie,—as much as ten dollars,—if you'll give me the rest, still."
"Why should I give it to you, father? How would that benefit ME?" she said, with a rather wicked relish in turning the tables on him and applying his life principle of selfishness to her own case.