Beth Norvell

The telltale color swept back into her cheeks in swift wave. For an

instant her eyes wavered, then came back to the man's sneering face.

"Did--did you dare tell him?"

He laughed lightly, softly patting his hand on the railing, his own

eyes partially veiled by lowered lids.

"Torn off the mask of unimpeachable virtue, have I?" he chuckled, well

pleased. "Rather prefer not to have our late affair blowed to this

particular young man, hey? Well, I suspected as much; and really,

Lizzie, you ought to know I am not that sort of a cur. I 've held my

tongue all right so far, and consequently I expect you to do me a good

deed in return. That's a fair enough proposition, is n't it?"

She did not immediately answer, gazing upon him as she might at some

foul snake which had fascinated her, her breath coming in half-stifled

sobs, her hand clutching the heavy curtain for support.

"Oh, good God!" she faltered at last, speaking as though half dazed.

"You must possess the spirit of a demon. Why do you continue to

torture me so? You have no right--no right; you forfeited all you ever

possessed years ago. Under Heaven, I am nothing to you; and in your

heart you know I have done nothing wrong, nothing to awaken even the

foul suspicions of jealousy. Mr. Winston has been my friend, yet even

that friendship--innocent and unsullied--is already past; we have

parted for all time."

"Indeed! You are such a consummate actress, Lizzie, I scarcely know

what really to believe. Probably, then, you no longer object to my

telling the gentleman the story?"

Her lips closed firmly.

"I shall tell him myself."

"Oh! Then, after all your fine words of renunciation, you will see him

again! Your reform is soon ended. Well, my girl, there is really no

necessity for any such sacrifice on your part. No one here suspects

anything regarding our little affair excepting you and me. You do what

I desire with this Winston, and I 'm mum. What do you say?"

She sank back into a chair, utterly unable to stand longer, hiding her

face in her hands.

"What--what is it you wish?" she questioned wearily.

He leaned forward and placed his hand, almost in caress, upon her

skirt, but she drew the cloth hastily away, a sudden sob shaking her

voice.

"Oh, please, don't touch me! I cannot stand it--only tell me what it

is you wish."

"I want you to exercise your influence over that fellow, and prevent

his taking professional employment at the 'Little Yankee' mine."