She heard her shrill, imperious voice call out quite distinctly, "Boy, who be you ?" The lovelorn whistler ceased his pipe, and evidently, had he consulted his own discretion, would have shown a pair of flying heels, but he walked bravely up to the window and the night-capped head and replied.

Ellen could not hear what he said, but she distinguished plainly enough her grandmother's concluding remarks.
"Go home," cried Mrs.Zelotes; "go home just as fast as you can and go to bed.

Go home!" Mrs.Zelotes made a violent shooting motion with her hands and her white head as if he were a cat, and Granville Joy obeyed.

However, Ellen heard his brave, retreating whistle far down the road.

She went back to bed, and lay awake with a fervor of young love roused into a flame by opposition swelling high in her heart.