“And yet, I’m failing to-night!” she sobbed, unable to keep back the tears, “just when I’ve told you that I love you, and the joy and wonder of it all has begun to light the world. Before I’ve thought only of myself. To-night I’m thinking only of you, my sweetheart! Just as I’ve learned to speak your name I feel you slipping away from me—oh, John darling, what will they do to you? Tell me—tell me!”
“They can only put me in jail to-night.”
“But they shall not—they shall not!” she moaned, clinging close to him. “You shall not let them! You shall not leave this house except to fly with me.”
Stella’s words choked into sudden silence at the shrill angry notes of Aunt Julie Ann’s voice ringing in the hall:
“Git out er dis house, I tells ye, ‘fo I bus’ yo head open wid dis door weight.”
“Mind your own business,” snapped the angry reply.
“I’se mindin’ my own business. Git out dat door, an’ knock ‘fo yer come in! An’ I lets yer in when I gits ready—when my mistis say yer kin come!”
“Faith, an’ I’ll slap ye head off ye shoulders, if ye don’t kape still,” growled the trooper.
“What do you want in here, yer low-life sluefooted Yankee?”
“If it’s just the same ter ye, I wants Mr. John Graham, me dusky maiden!”