Rachel passed the paper across the table in silence . The room seemed to her to have grown very still . She could hear the flies buzzing on the panes , the soft purr of the wind about the low eaves and through the apple boughs , the jerky beating of her own heart . She felt frightened and nervous , but resolute . Mrs. Spencer glanced down the list , murmuring the names aloud and nodding approval at each . But when she came to the last name , she did not utter it . She cast a black glance at Rachel , and a spark leaped up in the depths of the pale eyes . On her face were anger , amazement , incredulity , the last predominating . The final name on the list of wedding guests was the name of David Spencer . David Spencer lived alone in a little cottage down at the Cove . He was a combination of sailor and fisherman . He was also Isabella Spencer 's husband and Rachel 's father . `` Rachel Spencer , have you taken leave of your senses ? What do you mean by such nonsense as this ? '' `` I simply mean that I am going to invite my father to my wedding , '' answered Rachel quietly . `` Not in my house , '' cried Mrs. Spencer , her lips as white as if her fiery tone had scathed them . Rachel leaned forward , folded her large , capable hands deliberately on the table , and gazed unflinchingly into her mother 's bitter face . Her fright and nervousness were gone . Now that the conflict was actually on she found herself rather enjoying it . She wondered a little at herself , and thought that she must be wicked .
She was not given to self-analysis , or she might have concluded that it was the sudden assertion of her own personality , so long dominated XXXXX her mother 's , which she was finding so agreeable .
On about across as at by in into of that