“Mrs. Comstock, I came to ask Elnora to marry me.”

“The more fool you, then!” cried Mrs. Comstock.  “This time yesterday you were engaged to another woman, no doubt.  Now, for some little flare-up you come racing here to use Elnora as a tool to spite the other girl.  A week of sane living, and you will be sorry and ready to go back to Chicago, or, if you really are man enough to be sure of yourself, she will come to claim you.  She has her rights.  An engagement of years is a serious matter, and not broken for a whim.  If you don’t go, she’ll come.  Then, when you patch up your affairs and go sailing away together, where does my girl come in?”

“I am a lawyer, Mrs. Comstock,” said Philip.  “It appeals to me as beneath your ordinary sense of justice to decide a case without hearing the evidence.  It is due me that you hear me first.”

“Hear your side!” flashed Mrs. Comstock.  “I’d a heap sight rather hear the girl!”

“I wish to my soul that you had heard and seen her last night, Mrs. Comstock,” said Ammon.  “Then, my way would be clear.  I never even thought of coming here to-day.  I’ll admit I would have come in time, but not for many months.  My father sent me.”

“Your father sent you!  Why?”

“Father, mother, and Polly were present last night.  They, and all my friends, saw me insulted and disgraced in the worst exhibition of uncontrolled temper any of us ever witnessed.  All of them knew it was the end.  Father liked what I had told him of Elnora, and he advised me to come here, so I came.  If she does not want me, I can leave instantly, but, oh I hoped she would understand!”

“You people are not splitting wood,” called Elnora.

“Oh yes we are!” answered Mrs. Comstock.  “You set out the things for biscuit, and lay the table.”  She turned again to Philip.  “I know considerable about your father,” she said.  “I have met your Uncle’s family frequently this winter.  I’ve heard your Aunt Anna say that she didn’t at all like Miss Carr, and that she and all your family secretly hoped that something would happen to prevent your marrying her.  That chimes right in with your saying that your father sent you here.  I guess you better speak your piece.”

Philip gave his version of the previous night.

“Do you believe me?” he finished.

“Yes,” said Mrs. Comstock.

“May I stay?”

“Oh, it looks all right for you, but what about her?”

“Nothing, so far as I am concerned.  Her plans were all made to start to Europe to-day.  I suspect she is on the way by this time.  Elnora is very sensible, Mrs. Comstock.  Hadn’t you better let her decide this?”

“The final decision rests with her, of course,” admitted Mrs. Comstock.  “But look you one thing!  She’s all I have.  As Solomon says, ’she is the one child, the only child of her mother.’  I’ve suffered enough in this world that I fight against any suffering which threatens her.  So far as I know you’ve always been a man, and you may stay.  But if you bring tears and heartache to her, don’t have the assurance to think I’ll bear it tamely.  I’ll get right up and fight like a catamount, if things go wrong for Elnora!”