"Well, the sooner the better," went on Vinton, heartlessly. "I believe I'll go and have it out with her now."
He arose as heartlessly and indifferently as if he were going about a mission of happiness instead of being about to strike the cold steel of despair into the young heart that trusted him so fondly.
Jennie was sitting by a window in the parlor looking out at the great, blinding flakes of snow that whirled through the air and covered the ground with a pure white carpet.
She looked pale, but very pretty in a black dress with scarlet trimmings, and a scarlet shawl was draped about her shoulders, partly concealing her form.
As Mr. Vinton entered the room her dark eyes turned from the window and rested on him with a very fond and loving smile.
"You've come at last," she said, in a tone of joy and relief. "Where have you been all this long week?"
"In town," he answered, laconically, as he dropped into a chair near her.
A look of disappointment came into her eyes. She rose and went to his side, winding her arms about his neck, and pressing her lips on his brow.
"I've missed you so much," she said, lovingly. "I sha'n't let you leave me so long again."
"I shall not ask your leave!" he answered, sharply, and muttering an oath between his teeth as he rudely pushed her off.