If any one had told Jewel Fielding that she had the heart of a murderess, she would have indignantly denied the accusation—she would have been frightened and angry at the very idea—yet it was nothing less than a slow murder that she began the next day.
In the first place, she gave out to the servants that Flower was so ashamed and remorseful over her sin that she wished to keep her own room all the time, and desired to see no human face save that of her sister; so, lest any one should enter, she meant to keep her door locked all the while. Jewel declared that she desired to humor her sister's whim, and would carry her meals upstairs daily with her own hands.
Having thus paved the way to carrying the key of Flower's room in her pocket, and to starving her without being found out, the vindictive girl went into Flower's room, and surprised her at the task of plaiting a rope out of her bed-clothes by which to escape through her window, which was in the second story.
Jewel produced from under her dainty apron a hammer and some nails, with which she proceeded to nail down the window-sashes securely.
At first Flower tried to prevent her by holding back her arm; but Jewel shook her loose with a fierce strength, and, turning, menaced the white temple with the lifted hammer.
"Dare to hold back my arm again, and I will kill you!" she hissed, with vindictive rage, while the murderous fire that flashed from her black eyes appalled Flower's very soul.
With a moan she fell upon the bed, and lay watching Jewel until she had finished securing the windows.
Then she rose up in bed, and brushing back the wealth of sunny curls from her aching brow, began to plead pathetically for her freedom.
"I wish to go away, and you have no right to forbid me," she said at last, bitterly, resenting the scorn of the other.
Jewel laughed mockingly.