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Updated: June 29, 2025
"She is not dead, for I am that unfortunate girl," answered Faynie, in a voice that trembled with agonized emotion. "Listen all, while I tell my story," she sobbed. "Surely the saddest, most pitiful story a young girl ever had to tell."
Faynie's home was not as congenial to the young girl as it might have been, for a stepmother reigned supreme there, and all of her love was lavished upon her own daughter Claire, a crippled, quiet girl of about Faynie's own age, and Faynie was left to do about as she pleased. Her father almost lived in his library among his books, and she saw little of him for days at a time.
Therefore, toward the library, late as the hour was, Faynie made her way, stealing along quietly as a shadow. The door stood slightly ajar, and a ray of light, a narrow, thread-like strip, fell athwart the dim corridor. When Faynie reached the door she paused, trembling with apprehension, a feeling of intense dread, like a presentiment of coming evil, stealing over her like the shadow of doom.
"He has the deepest, richest, mellowest voice I ever heard, and such eyes wine dark eyes those are the only words which seem to express what they are like and when he takes your hand and looks down into your face, the hand he holds so lightly tingles from the finger tips straight to your heart." "I am afraid he has been holding your hand, Claire. Ah, take care beware!" warned Faynie.
"I saw you erase with a green fluid, which must have been a most powerful chemical, the words of the will, 'to my daughter Faynie' in the sentence: 'I bequeath all of my estate, both personal and real, and insert therein the words, 'my wife, Margaret' in place of 'my daughter Faynie." The woman stepped forward and clutched the girl's arm.
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.
"If this girl whom I marry to-night were to die suddenly on the wedding trip, for instance, I would come in for her fortune; then, when the excitement blew over, I could go to Gertrude and say " The sentence was never finished, for at that moment the door of the vehicle was suddenly wrenched open, and with a piercing cry Faynie sprang out into the raging storm and the inky blackness of the night.
Thus Faynie settled the matter in her own mind, and her lips were sealed. One morning Claire burst eagerly into the room, quite as soon as it was light. "I was here late last night, but you were asleep, Faynie," she said, "and I came away, though I could scarcely wait to tell you the wonderful news."
One summer evening he espied Faynie, the object of his ardent admiration, standing in the flower garden, herself the fairest flower of all. It was beyond human nature to resist stopping still to gaze upon her.
Faynie murmured some reply which she could not quite catch, for the housekeeper was old and very deaf. "Take this and go to sleep," she said, holding a soothing, quieting draught to the girl's white, hot, parched lips. "You will awaken as well as ever to-morrow." Faynie did as she was requested, closing her eyes.
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