Her father was standing at the gate. She faced him, holding defiantly the hand of her lover.
The old man saw and understood. His jaw was set with sullen determination and his face hardened.
"We have waited two long years," she began softly. "We have been patient and hopeful, but you have given no sign. My lover's character is beyond reproach, and I am proud of him. I am sorry to cross you, Father, but I've made up my mind, I am going to marry him now."
The Colonel turned in silence and slowly walked into the house.
Captain McCrea engaged a stateroom for her on the boat for Louisville. The lovers planned to meet at her aunt's, the Colonel's oldest sister. The tearful good-bys had been said to Mother and sisters and brother. The Colonel had not spoken, but he had business on the boat before she cast her lines from the shore.
The daughter drew him into her stateroom and slipped her arms around his neck. Few words were spoken and they were broken.
"Please, Father—please?—I love you—please—"
"No."
"I'm no longer a child. I'm a woman. You're a real man and you know I could have no respect for myself if I should yield my life's happiness to a whim—"
The old Colonel stroked her shoulder: