u to give me that ring.'
A sneer curled the lip of Ackermann.
'I will not give it to you!' he said, decidedly.
Miriam did not look at him now, but at the ring. It glowed on his hand
like a flame; for it was set with a cluster of diamonds.
'It will ruin you,' she said, raising her eyes slowly, and fixing them
on his face. 'It will be your curse.'
She turned and left the room. Ackermann looked displeased, and annoyed.
Annie was pale and frightened. I did not know whether to follow Miriam,
or remain to hear Annie's explanations. I finally decided to do neither,
and, walking out of the open window into the garden, I took another
route to my sister's.
They say that no nature is thoroughly evil, that every man has some
redeeming qualities. This is probably true, and I suppose Ackermann had
his virtues, but I was never able to discover any. The only sides of his
character presented to my observation were evil, and wholly evil. He
loved Annie, it is true, but it was an unnatural, selfish, exacting
love. Such a love is a curse to any woman, and it was doubly so to
Annie, who loved him too entirely to see any faults in him, and was too
weak minded to resist his merciless exactions. So thoroughly selfish was
he that, notwithstanding his love for Annie, he would have married
Miriam if she had not so peremptorily broken the engagement. Miriam was
very wealthy, while Annie was comparatively poor. Ackermann himself was
worth nothing. Why he persisted in keeping the ring I never knew, unless
it was that Miriam's proud contempt and indifference roused his
malignant temper to oppose her in the only way which lay in his power.
He possessed the art of making himself agreeable, and had a very fair
seeming, so that when his engagement to Annie was made public, she was
warmly congratulated. His former engagement to Miriam was unknown, even
to her own parents.
I saw but little of Ackermann and Annie, and never met them but in
public. His wickedness and her weakness made them both contemptible in
my eyes. And my mind was occupied in other matters. Miriam resolved to
make the tour of Europe, and I was to accompany her--for she would take
no denial. For many weeks we were busied in preparations for our
departure; Miriam had settled all her affairs satisfactorily, and we
were thinking of making the last farewells, when she was taken ill. The
doctors said it was an organic disease of the heart. This was an
hereditary disease in the f
|