Martin smilingly extended towards her a small, oval box, covered with a beautiful golden paper.
“How very, very lovely,” cried Nell, opening it.
“It is yours,” said Martin, “but only yours to give away. I want you to do something with it.”
"Can’t I keep it? Who must I give it to?"
“Melindy!”
"Oh, Martin, I can’t, I just can’t,—there!"
“Then you don’t wish to make her good, Nell! You want her to be cruel and wicked and hard as long as she lives!”
"Oh no, no, I don’t wish that now. I prayed for her last night." The last sentence was added in a very low tone.
“You refuse then?”
She looked at him, sighed, and turned away.