"Miss Pemely, honey!" Susannah called, low and cautiously.
She hurriedly withdrew her hand from Sim's clasp.
"I must go; grandpa wants me."
But he threw his arms about her to detain her a moment longer, loth to part from her so quickly. Their two young faces were almost on a level; for Black was short and dark, though strongly built, and square-shouldered, with keen black eyes, and a handsome, clean-shaven face. His eyes were alight with love's soft fire as they rested on her face.
"I cannot let you go so soon, beloved," he protested, tenderly.
"Ah, but think of grandpa's anger, should he find you here."
"It would take a stout heart to face it, I acknowledge," he said laughing. Then he took her face between his hands: "You'll not let them take you from me, Pamela?"
"Indeed I will not, Sim."
Her sweet eyes and mouth were kissed, and then Black vaulted over the low garden fence, while she hastened to the house, her light skirts brushing the tell-tale dew from flower and seeded grass, her fine, soft hair hanging damply around her throat and delicate ears.
It is not the purpose of this chronicle to give a minute account of Mr. Josiah Williamson's wooing, nor of its failure. Mr. Galer lived in a state of vexation from morning until night. He was nearly beside himself with baffled rage when he found that with characteristic family spirit Pamela declined to be cajoled or coerced into obedience. All his ambitious plans threatened a total collapse; and that the obstinacy of a slim young girl should be the cause made it all the more aggravating. He thought of a hundred schemes by which he might overcome her contrary spirit, but only one appeared feasible. He chuckled grimly over it, and sent for Mr. Williamson to unfold his plan to him.