“Let’s go out for a little walk in the yard,” suggested Ina, rising. So she got him outdoors where there was air, but no escape. They inspected the corrals, sheds, barns, horses, with all of which Mr. McAdam found fault. He hated farm life anyway.

“You’ll like living in Klamath Falls,” he said, as if inspired.

“Indeed!” murmured Ina, stifling a laugh. If only Marvie would appear to the rescue! But certain it was that this favored suitor from the city had been accorded a fair field.

Then to Ina’s dismay the voluble young gentleman spied the grove of large trees far back of the house and desired to go thither. In truth, he was sentimental. Ina suffered herself to be led there. It seemed a sacrilege—something she did not quite understand. But the sympathy and humor with which she had accepted her father’s company vanished under the old double pine tree. Here Sewell McAdam possessed himself of her hand, unobtrusively he made it appear on two occasions. On the third, however, Ina had to pull to release it.

“Mr. McAdam, I fear I do understand you,” she said. “But you don’t understand me. I’m not in the habit of letting young men hold my hand.”

“Aw, be sociable, Ina. What’s a little hand holding?” he urged.

“It doesn’t amount to much, but I haven’t any desire for it,” she said, edging away.

“Say, I may strike you as pretty thick, but I’m not that big a fool,” he returned, frowning.

“As what?” queried Ina.

“Why—to believe you’re that uppish, when you’ve been away for years at school among a lot of Tom, Dick and Harrys. Besides, it’s a bad start for us if you’re to be—if we’re—if things are—”

Ina’s grave questioning gaze brought him to a floundering halt.

“Mr. McAdam, you are laboring under some mistake,” said Ina. “We—if you mean you and I—have not made any kind of a start. Come, let us return to the house.”

He accompanied her sulkily. Ina was quick to give him an opportunity to say good–by and make his departure. But he carried his petulence even into the presence of her father and mother, now sitting on the porch with other visitors, of whom Mr. Setter was one. Ina was relieved to join them. A few minutes later Kate and her escort drove into the yard. Presently Ina excused herself and went to her room.

An hour’s pondering alleviated her anger and disgust, but she did not intend to endure any more afternoons like this one. She did not feel sure of her father’s motive, but his action had been rather pointed. Ina had dim recollections of the trials of country girls whose fathers’ wishes were the law. She saw that the only course for her was to assert herself at once. Accordingly, when the company had departed and she was again in the presence of the family she addressed her father.

“Dad, why did you all leave me alone with that Mr. McAdam?”