“No—­oh, no, you must not do that.  Father would be so angry with you!”

“You can’t walk to Bast Donegal.  It’s six miles away.”

“Let me think.—­Uncle Abe would do anything I asked him—­but he wouldn’t have time to leave the hotel Saturday morning.  And I couldn’t make him or Aunty Em understand that I was educated enough to take the examination.  But there’s the Doc!”

“Of course!” cried Fairchilds.  “The Doc isn’t afraid of the whole county!  Shall I tell him you’ll go if he’ll come for you?”

“Yes!”

“Good!  I’ll undertake to promise for him that he’ll be there!”

“When father comes home from market and finds me gone!” Tillie said—­but there was exultation, rather than fear, in her voice.

“When you show him your certificate, won’t that appease him?  When he realizes how much more you can earn by teaching than by working for your aunt, especially as he bore none of the expense of giving you your education?  It was your own hard labor, and none of his money, that did it!  And now I suppose he’ll get all the profit of it!” Fairchilds could not quite keep down the rising indignation in his voice.

“No,” said Tillie, quietly, though the color burned in her face.  “Walter!  I’m going to refuse to give father my salary if I am elected to a school.  I mean to save my money to go to the Normal—­ where Miss Margaret is.”

“So long as you are under age, he can take it from you, Tillie.”

“If the school I teach is near enough for me to live at home, I’ll pay my board.  More than that I won’t do.”

“But how are you going to help yourself?”

“I haven’t made up my mind, yet, how I’m going to do it.  It will be the hardest struggle I’ve ever had—­to stand out against him in such a thing,” Tillie continued; “but I will not be weak, I will not!  I have studied and worked all these years in the hope of a year at the Normal—­with Miss Margaret.  And I won’t falter now!”

Before he could reply to her almost impassioned earnestness, they were startled by the sound of footsteps behind them in the woods—­ the heavy steps of men.  Involuntarily, they both stopped short, Tillie with the feeling of one caught in a stolen delight; and Fairchilds with mingled annoyance at the interruption, and curiosity as to who might be wandering in this unfrequented patch of woods.

“I seen ’em go out up in here!”

It was the voice of Absalom.  The answer came in the harsh, indignant tones of Mr. Getz.  “Next time I leave her go to a Instytoot or such a Columbus Sallybration, she’ll stay at home!  Wastin’ time walkin’ ’round in the woods with that dude teacher! —­and on a week-day, too!”

Tillie looked up at Fairchilds with an appeal that went to his heart.  Grimly he waited for the two.

“So here’s where you are!” cried Mr. Getz, striding up to them, and, before Fairchilds could prevent it, he had seized Tillie by the shoulder.  “What you mean, runnin’ off up here, heh?  What you mean?” he demanded, shaking her with all his cruel strength.