Her Dark Inheritance

by Mrs. E. Burke Collins

"I told you, when I asked you to be my wife, that I had no love for you, and yet you were willing to accept me without love. Pardon me, Serena, but when a woman accepts an offer of marriage from a man who openly acknowledges that he does not love her, she must be prepared to accept all the consequences of her own rash and ill-advised act—all the shame, the grief, and humiliation. Serena, I have never loved you—I never shall; and I love another woman with all my heart, and soul, and strength! It is my desire that this foolish engagement be broken off at once—at once. You will thank me some day that I had the courage to put an end to it before it was too late."

Silence, awful silence, settled down upon the room. You could hear distinctly the beating of Serena Lynne's heart, as she sat staring straight before her into space with a numbed, awful look upon her face which might have touched a heart of stone. Keith felt his own heart grow sore with sorrow for her suffering, but he felt that he was doing right, like the surgeon who pities and sympathizes inwardly with the sufferer before him, yet must not hesitate to plunge the sharp, keen knife into the wound, or the sufferer will die. He felt that he must end all this unpleasant complication with Serena before another day had passed, or he could not tell into what trouble his own mad act might lead him.

"I have done wrong," he muttered to himself, "in asking her to marry me. I must have been mad—mad! But it is not too late to rectify the mistake, and I must end this affair at once and forever."

But still Serena sat like a statue and did not speak or move. Keith began to feel uneasy.

"Serena," he said, gently, "I do not wish to wound you, but there must be a final understanding between us now."

"There shall be," she cried, angrily, starting up. "I consider the engagement at an end. I release you! Now, go and marry Beatrix Dane; but my opinion is, that you will rue the day that you were guilty of such mad folly! Good-bye, Keith Kenyon, may you be as happy as you deserve!"

But as she left the room, her face working convulsively, her breath coming in broken gasps, she was whispering softly to herself:

"He shall never marry her—never! I swear that, come what may, Keith Kenyon shall be mine! It is the one object of my life. I shall not give it up without a struggle!"

But slowly and surely the hour was coming when Serena Lynne would be forced to say that all hope was vain.

That very day Keith made up his mind to take a decisive step. He would make Beatrix his wife at once—privately—and then no matter what might happen, she would have him to defend and protect her. And nothing should ever part them, nothing could ever come between them save death. The more he thought of it the more determined did he grow. At last he rose and made his way slowly out into the grounds, lying fair and green in the wintry sunshine as though it were spring. Still weak, Keith felt the balmy air revive him and strengthen him, and found that after a little he was able to walk quite well.