"
She did not weep. But the sweet bloom and life died out of her
face. She looked haggard and sad, all at once stunted; and her
hands dropped listlessly; and her head drooped in slow, final
acceptance of a hopeless fate.
"Jane. look there!" cried Venters, in despairing grief. "Need you
have told her? Where was all your kindness of heart? This girl
has had a wretched, lonely life. And I'd found a way to make her
happy. You've killed it. You've killed something sweet and pure
and hopeful, just as sure as you breathe."
"Oh, Bern! It was a slip. I never thought--I never thought!"
replied Jane. "How could I tell she didn't know?"
Lassiter suddenly moved forward, and with the beautiful light on
his face now strangely luminous, he looked at Jane and Venters
and then let his soft, bright gaze rest on Bess.
"Well, I reckon you've all had your say, an' now it's Lassiter's
turn. Why, I was jest praying for this meetin'. Bess, jest look
here."
Gently he touched her arm and turned her to face the others, and
then outspread his great hand to disclose a shiny, battered gold
locket.
"Open it," he said, with a singularly rich voice.
Bess complied, but listlessly.
"Jane--Venters--come closer," went on Lassiter. "Take a look at
the picture. Don't you know the woman?"
Jane, after one glance, drew back.
"Milly Erne!" she cried, wonderingly.
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