"I am not. I wish I were. He is muttering her name over and over in his sleep even now. She saved his life, you know; and that, of all things, would serve to attract and draw them together from the first. Mamma, I tell you I am lost—lost! I love him! I love him! I do not deny it, and if I can not win his love and be his wife, I shall die!"
"Hush! Be quiet. Control yourself. You shall be his wife. We will keep Beatrix away from him, and in a few days, when her money comes, she shall be packed off to New Orleans, and good-bye forever to Miss Beatrix Dane. And before Keith leaves this place to return to his home he must make you his wife. We will try to bring that about, Serena. It must be done!"
"It shall be! He shall care for me!" repeated the heartless girl. "Here, by the side of my dead father, I swear that I—and I alone—shall be Keith Kenyon's wife!"
[CHAPTER V.]
ON THE EVE OF DEPARTURE.
Out in the cold starry night Beatrix was riding swiftly on to the little town of Burtonville—a small settlement which lay some three miles beyond the home of the Lynnes. It was isolated from the railroad, and was in fact only a handful of houses dropped down in the midst of the woods for no apparent purpose whatever.
The wind blew shrill and cold, but the girl had wrapped herself warmly and did not mind it as she galloped on in the face of the blast. She had only one thought to occupy her—the good old man whom she had loved as a father, was dead. Never more would she hear his kindly voice, never more would she listen to his gentle words. She thought of the parting that night, and her heart thrilled with thankfulness that she had come back to kiss him and bid him good-night.
"For the last time," she murmured, sadly; "the very last time—poor papa!"