Mischievous Maid Faynie | Page 7

she cried, drawing back, "oh--oh, please do not be angry with
me, but I've changed my mind. It seemed such a terrible thing to do.
Let us not be married to-night."
Something like an imprecation rose to his lips, but he chopped it off
quickly, uttering again that laugh, so hard, so cruel, so blood-curdling,
that it sent a chill of terror to her young heart.
"It's too late to change your mind now," he exclaimed. "It's only natural
you should feel this way; girls always do. Here is the coach and the
horses. The driver and my friend will be impatient to be off."
Either the excitement of his coming triumph or the brandy he had taken
had made him recklessly wild.
He drew her along, heedless of her struggles, her passionate protest.
His face was flushed, his dark eyes gleamed; he was ready at that
moment to face and defy devils and men.

"Don't make a fuss, my darling. You've got to come along," he
exclaimed. "Of course, you have scruples and all that. I think the more
of you for them, but you'll thank me for not listening some day. I'll
bring you back after the ceremony's over and set you down at your own
gate, if you say so, I swear I will," and as he spoke he caught her in his
arms and fairly thrust her into the vehicle, placed her on the seat and
sprang in beside her.
The door closed with a bang and the horses were off like a flash.
Too terrified to utter another word of protest, and half fainting from
fright, Faynie sank back, gasping, into the farthest corner. Her
companion turned to the man sitting opposite.
"My friend, Smith, Faynie," he said by way of introduction, and adding,
before the other could utter one word to acknowledge the introduction,
"let's have a little more of that. I'm chilled to the marrow with the cold,
standing out there in the snow."
There was a faint move of the little bundle huddled up in the corner.
She fell forward in a dead faint.
"So much the better," cried Kendale. "She will not bother us until we've
had time to formulate our plans. Ha, ha, ha! how easy it is for a
sharp-witted fellow like myself to make a million of money!"
CHAPTER IV.
FOND LOVE TO HATRED TURNED.
Despite the severe shock which caused Faynie to swoon, her
unconsciousness lasted but a few moments, then, dazed and bewildered,
her blue eyes opened slowly, and she realized with horror too great for
words that she was whirling swiftly over the snowy road, still in the
company of the two men, her lover and his companion.
They were talking together in low, guarded tones. She could not help
but hear every word distinctly, and they fell upon her ears with horror

so intense she wondered that she lived through it from moment to
moment.
It was Lester Armstrong who was speaking at that moment, and she
was obliged to clutch her hands tightly together to keep from screaming
aloud as she heard him say to his companion:
"I have always been a free lance among the pretty girls, drifting about
much after the fashion of the bee wherever my fancy listed, and it will
be more than irksome to yoke myself in the matrimonial harness to this
girl. She is not of the kind--face, figure, temperament, anything--that is
calculated to arouse my admiration. I detest your baby-faced creatures
of her stamp, but she's heiress to a million, and I have concluded to
swallow the gilded pill.
"There's one thing I assure you of, before she is married to me a
fortnight I'll break that cursed temper of hers, if I have to break her
neck or her heart, or both, to do it. She shall find that I'm her lord and
master from this hour henceforth, and my word is law."
"I'd advise you not to rush the scheme for getting that big sum of
money until you have gained her confidence a little. More flies can be
caught with molasses than vinegar, you know."
"I shall have little patience with her," declared her lover. "I detested her
the first instant my eyes rested upon her, and I am positive the feeling
will grow upon me with every passing hour, instead of diminishing."
"It is easy enough to guess the reason for that," laughed the other. "You
are in love with the queenly Gertrude, who has already more adorers
than she can count. It is common report that you are the beauty's
favorite, however, and if you weren't both so confoundedly poor, you'd
make a first-class couple. As it is, of course it's not to be thought of."
"Except in one way," cut in the