“Marry me, dearest,” he said, softly; “I’ll engage that you sha’n’t kill yourself afterward. Why, sweetheart, I’ll make life a continuous round of pleasure for you; you shall have your own way in everything—everything! I’ll be your humble slave, and you may command me—”
“Hush, Fenn. I’ve told you the course I shall take. Now, I think I may as well marry you as any one else. Then I’ll be legally entitled to the money. I’ve made a will, which I must sign after I’m married,—and then—”
“Don’t, Elsie! You’re talking rubbish! Girls don’t kill themselves so easily, with friends around to prevent.”
“Never mind about that,” Elsie smiled mysteriously, “the way is already provided. And I shall make no horrible scene, I shall merely go away from this horrid, horrid world!”
“But I shall transform the horrid world into a world of light and flowers and love! Give me a chance, Elsie, let me prove my words—”
“Don’t discuss it, Fenn,” Elsie was imperious, “you know nothing of my heart,—you couldn’t even appreciate my feelings if you knew them. But I do like you, and you are a friend. Marry me, then, and the rest is in my hands.”
“No; Elsie. I refuse to marry you under such conditions. What man would?”
“That’s the trouble,—no man would! That’s why I’ve decided on you, as my only hope. Marry me, Fenn, to save the money for my people. I’ll leave you a goodly share, too—”
“Elsie!” Whiting’s look made her flush.
“Well,” she defended herself, “that’s only fair, if you’re my husband.”