"No. I believe you to be a wicked man, and I will never consent to sacrifice my child to such as you."
"But if she loves me?"
"She does not—she cannot! She knows your evil reputation, and her heart is another's."
"I will wait. She loves me, and will be mine. I am sure of it."
"Never! And now, as we have already prolonged this meeting beyond reason, go, and never speak to me on the subject again."
"Very well, Giles Raynor, I shall not. I shall speak to your daughter instead."
"Do so at your peril, Tom Walden! Now go!"
"Good-morning, Farmer Raynor, and a better temper to you when we meet again."
The man whose suit had been refused went away with a smile upon his dark face, and without the least threat against his rival, or the man who had given him his dismissal, nor the least suggestion that he meant otherwise than to honestly win the girl whom he professed to love.
Giles Raynor was a settler in the far Northwest, and a man of importance in the little town which he had founded.