In marrying him she would satisfy her mother, and was it not her duty to sacrifice something to her mother's happiness, perhaps her mother's life?
[Illustration: TEMPTED.] Yes, yes, Julia, a false spirit of self-sacrifice is another path over the cliff! In such a mood as this all paths lead into the abyss.
Her mind was made up.

She braced her will against all the relentings of her heart.

She wished that Humphreys, who had indirectly declared his love so often, were there to offer at once.

She would accept him immediately, and then the whole neighborhood should not say that she had been deserted by a Dutchman.

For in her anger she found her mother's epithets expressive.
He was there! Was it the devil that planned it?
Does he plan all those opportunities for wrong that are so sure to offer themselves?
Humphreys, having led a life that turned night into day, sat at the farther end of the long upper porch, smoking his cigar, waiting a bed-time nearer to the one to which he was accustomed.
Did he suspect the struggle in the heart of Julia Anderson?
Did he guess that her pride and defiance had by this time reached high-water mark?
Did he divine this from seeing her there?
He rose and started in through the door of the upper hall, the only opening to the porch, except the window.