But Felise was jubilant.
"Mother, you see what I can do," she said, with a wicked laugh. "The honeymoon is barely over, yet I have thrown sand in the old man's eyes and parted him from his darling for two whole years."
"Felise, how did you accomplish it?" Mrs. Arnold inquired curiously.
"That is my secret," she answered, triumphantly.
"You might share it with me," her mother said, reproachfully. "I never have secrets from you, my dear."
"I only used a little tact and humbug, mother—just a word dropped in season here and there—yet the seed I sowed has brought forth an abundant harvest. I have driven him nearly mad with jealousy and doubt and suspicion; I put that scheme of sending Bonnibel to school into his mind. And yet so blinded is he by his jealousy that he does not dream of my complicity in the matter, and he will always blame himself for the everlasting alienation that will exist between them."
"You had your revenge sooner than I thought you would. You are a clever girl, Felise," Mrs. Arnold said, admiringly.
"It is but begun," Felise answered, moodily. "If time spares the old man until Bonnibel comes out of her school I will wring his heart even more deeply than I have already done. I bide my time."
Her mother, cruel and vindictive as she was herself, looked at her in wonder.
"Why, it seems to me that you have already deeply avenged yourself," she said.