But Nellie’s heart was rebellious. Not always could she quell the longings that would well up therein. So when one day a handsome, dark-haired, dark-eyed man found this beautiful uncultured bird she fell an easy victim. It was the old, old story over again, of a trusting maiden’s love and of man’s selfish appetite. Not that he was a greater villain than men are wont to be, but men, like the bee, are used to sip the honey from every fair flower hereon they may happen to alight. He knew he would be envied the possession of the love, the favor, of this beautiful creature, by all of his friends, while the possession itself would be unalloyed bliss to him.
But a time came when his plaything tired the man of fashion and culture. He would have dropped it, but he had reckoned without his host. Maddened by the sneers and innuendoes of her hitherto companions and by the insults of men, all the latent devil that lies hidden and veiled within the heart of many a loving woman, was aroused. Having managed to purloin from her brother’s pocket a shining little toy and hiding it within her heaving bosom, she sought her betrayer’s side. With burning cheeks she demanded of him to do her justice.
He would have tried again to soothe her fiery blood with honeyed words, but they had lost their power. Her faith in him had been destroyed; never again could she trust him. He sought to allay her fears with fair promises; he would marry her, if she would wait a few days; he wished to arrange his affairs; he would prepare a home for her.
The young girl’s eyes flashed ominously as she answered: “No! I will not wait. Now! instantly, do I want my due.”
Herbert Ellwood began to grow impatient. He was tired of the scene. Curbing his temper, however, he again made answer: “This evening, then, I promise to be with you although you are very foolish not to wait a few days longer, until I should have had prepared a home to take you to.”
She looked like a lovely fury as she stamped her foot in rising anger. “Now!” she cried. “Now, within the hour! I cannot, I will not trust you one moment longer.”
The hot blood mounted to his white forehead,—Did this pretty fool think that she could command him?—him who had always been the darling of fair women?—him who needed but to hold out his hand to find it eagerly clasped by any of a dozen fair ones? Scorn curled his lip, and the habitual gentleness from his manner suddenly fled.
“Enough,” he cried.—“I am tired of this. Go home and wait until I come.”
With this he turned his back upon her, making it very plain to her that he considered the obnoxious interview at an end. But the demon in the girl’s heart was now fully aroused. With a quick step she had reached his side. Despair and anger gave her strength. By one quick movement she whirled him round when he found flashing in his eyes the shining barrel of a revolver.
“I will avenge my honor on the spot, here and now,—wipe out my shame in your blood if you delay an instant longer to do me the justice I demand.”