To all this finery she added her best hat, which had just come home from the milliner’s, and taking a pair of fresh white kid gloves in her hand, which she couldn’t put on to cover up that ring, she started out, feeling more elegant than she had ever felt in her life before.
The way to Stella’s was through a corner of the park, and everything that morning was so fresh and sweet that Lettie lingered as she passed through. There were not many people there so early in the morning, and Lettie paid no attention to a rough-looking man she passed, sitting on a bench and looking as if he had passed the night there. Her way lay on the border of the wilder and more secluded part of the park, and her mother had always warned her to avoid this part when she was alone. She had therefore never penetrated the fascinating little paths which led among the close-growing trees and bushes, though she had always longed to do so. Now, on the day of her perfect freedom, the temptation came up again. She hesitated; her mother’s warning recurred to her.
“I don’t believe there’s a bit of danger,” she said to herself; “mother’s so old-fashioned. Girls don’t do as they did when she was young; they can take care of themselves nowadays. I mean to see where this little path goes; it looks so lovely and cool in there.”
She turned into the path. It was charming; birds were singing, flowers blooming, and she walked on and on, enchanted.
After a little, however, she was struck with the loneliness of the place, and a thought of her mother’s warning made her turn back towards the more frequented walks. As she turned she found herself facing the man she had noticed on the bench, and a panic seized her. She tried to rush past him, but he barred the way. She tried to scream, but she could not make a sound; and the man spoke.
“No you don’t, my fine miss! If you make a noise I’ll brain you!” and he flourished a heavy stick he carried. “If you behave yourself like a lady,” he went on, less roughly, “I’ll not hurt you in the least.”
“Let me pass!” cried Lettie, white with terror.
“Certainly, miss,” said he gruffly, “in one minute; just as soon as you give me those beads on your neck, and that watch; and if you hand ’em over quietly yourself you’ll save me the trouble of gagging you with this,”—dragging a filthy handkerchief from his pocket,—“and taking them off myself; ’n I ain’t no lady’s maid, either,” he added grimly, “’n I might possibly hurt you!”
Frightened half out of her wits, Lettie raised her hand to unclasp her necklace, when the flash of the diamonds on her finger caught the sharp eye of the thief.
“Golly,” he said, “better ’n I thought! I’ll trouble you to slip off that ring, too.”