“Punishment!” echoed Jess, putting her dark curls back from her tear-stained face with her little, trembling hands. “What have I ever done to offend Heaven, that I should deserve punishment? That is the wrong word for it, you meant affliction.” “I meant exactly what I said, my dear,” returned Queenie, softly. “It is my firm belief that the Lord meant to punish you for flinging aside so ruthlessly the solemn wishes of the dead!” she added, solemnly and impressively. Jess looked up into her face with bewildered, tear-stained eyes, murmuring faintly: “Still I do not comprehend.” “You certainly ought not to need me to refresh your memory in regard to the fact that you were in solemn duty bound to wed him whom the man who thought enough of you to leave half of his fortune to desired you to marry.” “But I did not love him, Queenie,” sobbed the girl, piteously, “and I did love the man whom I married. “Go where I would, his face was always before me; it smiled up at me from the hearts of the flowers over which I bent, it looked at me from the dancing waves of the rippling brook. I saw it framed in the fleecy clouds when I looked up at the blue sky, and from the golden stars when the night fell, shrouding the world in impenetrable darkness. “Oh, Queenie, I often wonder if any other girl in this whole wide world has ever loved as fondly and as dearly as I loved the handsome, noble gentleman to whom God seemed to consecrate me when I became his bride. Ah, why should God punish me, and desire me to marry another when I loved my husband as devotedly as that?” “God’s motives are not for us to question; it seems that He did,” replied Queenie, tersely, adding, after a seemingly thoughtful pause: “Do you know that I think His anger can only be assuaged by your carrying out His design yet?” She knew by the bewildered look in Jess’ eyes that she did not in the least comprehend the hint she had just given her. “I consider it my duty to speak plainly to you, Jess,” she said. “I am quite sure that your husband was removed for the purpose of your carrying out yet the provisions of that will.” “Oh, no, no, no!” cried the girl, wildly. “I would not marry the best man that ever walked the earth; for me there is but one love, and therefore but one husband!” “There is another matter to be considered,” said Queenie. “Do you want to go out into the world penniless, and earn your own living, which you surely must do if you persist in refusing the rich gifts the gods offer you? It is a question which you must not decide rashly.” “I do not care for the Dinsmore millions!” sobbed the girl. “I can get along without them. Please do not say any more to me on the subject, Queenie, my poor heart is so sore.”