The man smiled slightly, not in the least disconcerted by her plain speech.  The cutting words merely served to put him on his mettle.  “Probably we departed from the hotel somewhat earlier than the minister anticipated,” he explained, quietly, his old ease of manner returning in face of such open opposition.  “I greatly regret your evident prejudice, madam, and can only say that I have more confidence in you than you appear to have in me.  I shall certainly discover some means by which I may do my part in shaping this girl’s future, but in the meanwhile will relieve you of my undesired presence.”

He stepped without into the glare of the sunlight, feeling utterly careless as to the woman who had affronted him, yet somewhat hurt on seeing that the girl had not once lifted her downcast eyes to his face.  Yet he had scarcely taken three steps toward the road before she was beside him, her hand upon his sleeve.

“I won’t stay!” she exclaimed, fiercely, “I won’t, Bob Hampton.  I ’d rather go with you than be good.”

His sensitive face flushed with delight, but he looked gravely down into her indignant eyes.  “Oh, yes, you will, Kid,” and his hand touched her roughened hair caressingly.  “She’s a good, kind woman, all right, and I don’t blame her for not liking my style.”

“Do—­do you really want me to stick it out here, Bob?”

It was no small struggle for him to say so, for he was beginning to comprehend just what this separation meant.  She was more to him than he had ever supposed, more to him than she had been even an hour before; and now he understood clearly that from this moment they must ever run farther apart—­her life tending upward, his down.  Yet there was but one decision possible.  A life which is lonely and dissatisfied, a wasted life, never fully realizes how lonely, dissatisfied, and wasted it is until some new life, beautiful in young hope and possibility, comes into contact with it.  For a single instant Hampton toyed with the temptation confronting him, this opportunity of brightening his own miserable future by means of her degradation.  Then he answered, his voice grown almost harsh.  “This is your best chance, little girl, and I want you to stay and fight it out.”

Their eyes met, each dimly realizing, although in a totally different way, that here was a moment of important decision.  Mrs. Herndon darkened the doorway, and stood looking out.

“Well, Mr. Bob Hampton,” she questioned, plainly, “what is this going to be?”

He glanced toward her, slightly lifting his hat, and promptly releasing the girl’s clinging hand.

“Miss Gillis consents to remain,” he announced shortly, and, denying himself so much as another glance at his companion, strode down the narrow path to the road.  A moment the girl’s eyes followed him through the dust cloud, a single tear stealing down her cheek.  Only a short week ago she had utterly despised this man, now he had become truly more to her than any one else in the wide, wide world.  She did not in the least comprehend the mystery; indeed, it was no mystery, merely the simple trust of a child naturally responding to the first unselfish love given it.  Perhaps Mrs. Herndon dimly understood, for she came forth quietly, and led the girl, now sobbing bitterly, within the cool shadows of the house.