“No.” She looked at him earnestly for a moment. “No,” she said again with a hint of fatality in her voice; “but that means that I must run away from home.”
“Run—away—from home?”
“Yes.” She was touched to wistfulness by the thought of what his home must be if no such possible contingent had occurred in his life. “If I don’t, I’ll have to marry Alvin Short; daddy will make me.”
“How can he?”
“Oh, Billy, don’t ask me. Fathers have ways. If Cousin Will were here he could help me.”
“You never told me about him. Did I ever see him?”
“No. He’s not a cousin really. Uncle Henry’s wife was married before, and Will is her son. We were great chums till they moved to Oregon a few years ago.”
Billy looked at her, speculating on the reminiscent light that came into her eyes as she gazed absently off into the west.
“Will was as good as a brother,—better,—he didn’t tease. If he was here he’d not let them make me marry if I didn’t want to.”
“You aren’t old enough to marry!” Billy burst out vehemently.