With a steady hand she wrote the last name on her list and drew a line under it . `` Well , have you finished ? '' asked her mother impatiently . `` Hand it here and let me look over it to make sure that you have n't left anybody out that should be in . '' 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 XXXXX .
amazement anger anybody approval depths face father flies line wind