“Never mind, Colonel,” he said slowly, “you can’t say anything to me but what I’ve said, over and over again, to myself.  I know she’s ignorant and uncultured.  I know what it would mean if I should marry her.  If I were to choose for a wife a fashionable girl, whose life is centered in the luxury which surrounds her, the world would smile approval; but for Madge, with her true, brave heart and noble thoughts, there would be only sneers and insults because she happened to be born up there in the mountains.  That is the kind of people we are down here in the bluegrass.”  He smiled, somewhat bitterly.  “And I—­well, I’m too much like the rest to need any warning—­too much of a coward to think of making her my wife.”

He sat, dejectedly, in a chair by the long table, and, with face held between his hands and elbows planted on the board, looked across it, through the open window, out into the thronging street with gloomy eyes.  For days he had been fighting battle after battle with himself.  He could not make his mind up as to what he ought to do.  He knew he loved the mountain-girl, but—­but—­

“There, there, my boy, I’m sorry,” said the Colonel, sympathetically, apologetically.  “Let’s drop the subject.  The ladies will be here, soon.  Before they come I’ll step over to the office and get the answer from the Dyer Brothers.”  He rose, looking at his watch.  “It’s nearly time it was here.  They were to wire promptly.  I’ll bring it to you as soon as it comes.”  He went to Frank and put his hand upon his shoulder comfortingly.  “Don’t worry, my boy.  It will all come out, all right.  Ahem!  I mean there’s nothing the matter with the mare and the sale will go through.”

“I hope so,” said Frank, rising without much show of energy.  He was clearly on the edge of real discouragement.  “If it doesn’t—­and that assessment to be met—­ah, well!  What’s the use of worrying?  It doesn’t help the matter any.”  He walked slowly to the window and looked out.  “Here come Madge and Aunt ’Lethe,” he announced, “through with their shopping at last.  How different Madge looks from the little mountain-girl I first knew!” He turned and faced the Colonel.  “Ah, if the world knew her as I do—­”

The Colonel left the room, bound for the telegraph-office, just before a shrill scream came from the corridor, without, startling Layson greatly.

“Oh, dellaw!” the frightened voice said.  “Le’ me out!  Le’ me out!”

He recognized the voice, at once, as belonging to the girl whom he had been discussing with the Colonel, and it was so full of terror that he rushed quickly to the door, prepared to rescue her from some dire peril.

“What can be the matter?” he thought, frightened.

At the door he met Madge, white of face and startled, coming in.

“Why, Madge!  What is it?”

She leaned against the writing-table, gasping.  It was plain enough that she had been greatly frightened.