Then, for the first time, Dallas felt some curiosity over Sherwood, and asked:
“Who was it that shot him?”
The maid gave him a searching glance, and answered pertly:
“No names were called, but everybody is saying that the deed was done by some lover of the lady who was mad about her marriage.”
“Meaning me?” he asked, with a scornful glance; and Letty giggled, without answering.
He regarded her sternly a moment; then said:
“Go back to—the lady that sent you here, and tell her it shall be as she wishes. I am leaving for New York on the first train, and I shall never cross her path again.”
“Yes, sir—and I make no doubt she will be glad to hear it. Old sweethearts are just in the way when a girl is once married,” Letty uttered mockingly, as she flounced out of the presence of the man she had deceived to carry on her nefarious work.
The next step was to go to the station and board the same train with Dallas, so as to lend color to the story of her elopement, as related in the letter that Cullen had shown to Daisie, it also having been written by the clever little schemer, Mrs. Fleming.
So the cruel deed was done, and two loving hearts forced asunder to tread divided paths in a wretched life made desolate in its dawning by the tragedy of hopeless love.