“I believe you have erred through thoughtless vanity, my daughter, and that you do not realize the sacredness of love. That is the only excuse I can find for what you have done. But from today I wish you to turn over a new leaf, and give up this despicable flirting that has so nearly ended in a terrible tragedy that must have lain heavily on your conscience forever. You must promise me today that you will never again lead any man on, to gratify your love of conquest at the expense of his happiness.”
His words and looks were so solemn that she exclaimed, almost petulantly:
“Papa, you talk of a tragedy. Do you call a harmless flirtation with George Merrington a tragedy?”
“A harmless flirtation, Viola! Wait till you hear all,” he exclaimed.
“Well, papa, I am waiting to hear all that you will tell me. Did George Merrington come to you to complain of my flirting with him?” sarcastically.
To her amazement and indignation, he replied instantly:
“Yes; he came from the reception where you had refused the offer of his warm, loving heart, with a girlish laugh and jest, straight to the club where I was sitting with some gentlemen, and he told me the truth about you—that you were the most heartless coquette in the world, and had broken his heart just as you had broken many others. Then crying, ‘Bid her remember she wrecked my life!’ he whipped out a pistol, and before any one could prevent the rash deed, fired a bullet into his breast!”
“Ah, Heaven!” shrieked Viola, remorsefully, and sank back like one dying.
He bent over her in an agony of pitying love, soothing her back to calmness, saying, gently:
“I knew it would shock you terribly, Viola, but it had to be told. Indeed, I feared you had heard it already. It must be a lesson to you hereafter never to amuse yourself at flirting again. A man’s heart is not simply a toy.”