“By the eternal, luck seems to be working dead against me!” he cried. “I am almost strapped as to cash—I must marry that confounded contrary girl, and without delay, too, to secure that fortune. You know delays are dangerous!”
“Am I not equally as anxious? I am in the same position financially as yourself; my funds are horribly low, and your marrying this girl, and securing the Dinsmore fortune, which you have promised to divide with me as compensation for my services, is everything I have to depend upon; so why should I not expedite matters to the fullest extent of my power?” she demanded.
“With your woman’s wit, you ought to be able to arrange matters somehow,” he persisted, doggedly.
“I will do the very best I can; that is all that I can say,” she responded, and he was obliged to let matters rest in that way. He took a reluctant leave, with the understanding that he was not to call again until he was sent for, which Queenie declared should be the first moment in which she had Jess’ promise that she would see him.
And Queenie meant what she said. For decency’s sake she allowed a week to pass since she had informed Jess of her husband’s tragic death, ere she put her scheme in motion.
At the end of that week Queenie took the girl in hand.
“This will never do, my dear,” she said. “You must take the punishment which has been meted out to you meekly.”
“Punishment!” echoed Jess, putting her dark curls back from her tear-stained face with her little, trembling hands. “What have I ever done to offend Heaven, that I should deserve punishment? That is the wrong word for it, you meant affliction.”
“I meant exactly what I said, my dear,” returned Queenie, softly. “It is my firm belief that the Lord meant to punish you for flinging aside so ruthlessly the solemn wishes of the dead!” she added, solemnly and impressively.
Jess looked up into her face with bewildered, tear-stained eyes, murmuring faintly: