not too good to mix with common folk."

'Well, in this way things went till I was eighteen. One evening, at
this period, I attended a dance which wound up a "quilting bee," at a
house about a mile distant from our own. All the rustics there were
known to me; but there was a stranger present who at once attracted
my attention. He had not the conscious air and movement of the
country folk, but seemed as cool and as much at ease as if he were in
the woods alone. He was handsome, too, and no sooner did I see him
than I felt attracted by his splendid eyes.

'He asked the hostess to present him; and my heart throbbed wildly
as he came up, bowed, and asked if he could have the pleasure of a
dance. I readily consented, and before the party broke up I had given
the stranger all my heart. I had never loved before, much as I had
enjoyed men's company. Yet, although I gave my heart away, I had some
undefinable dread of this dark, daring stranger, with the remorseless
though beautiful eye, and that dare-devil step and bearing. Many
times, again, we met; frequently in the meadows when the gloaming
came; and often in my father's orchard.

'He declared in burning words his love for me and asked if I would
become his wife. I consented. Then I bade him ask my father's
sanction; but this he would not listen to. He said that our wedding
would have to be kept a profound secret; and asked if I knew any
clergyman upon whom I might rely to perform the ceremony. I knew that
it would be useless to apply to the Episcopalian minister who
preached once in the month in the district church, for he and my
father were the closest friends. But Mr. Wyman, a Baptist missionary
with whose family I was very intimate, contrary to my father's