ttle of water,
and drank feverishly, though she thought bitterly:

"Most likely it is poisoned, and the draught will bring me a horrible
death! But what matter? A speedy death is better than dying by inches in
a living tomb!"

But she was mistaken--the water was not drugged. Her enemies would have
been shocked at the idea of a downright murder.

When she died of the foul air and deprivation and grief, they would
complacently call it the visitation of God. If she was driven to swallow
the poison they had sent her, it would be by her own choice that she had
died a suicide's death. It would not rest like a weight on their
consciences; and they hoped she would do it, for then they would place
the body where it might conveniently be found, and the coroner's verdict
would say she died from laudanum administered by her own hand.

Oh, the fiendish deed had been plotted well! And when Mrs. Ellsworth
revived next day, and heard from Sheila Kelly the story of Dainty's
despair, she was well pleased, saying to herself, excusingly:

"I would not have done it, only that she wilfully defied me, and
thwarted all my plans for marrying Love to one of my favorite nieces.
But it can not be helped now, and her death is quite necessary to my
plans; for if Love dies, as they say he is bound to, I should inherit
all his money, unless Dainty should return and prove the marriage that
he claims took place between them weeks ago. How fortunate he was shot
down before he could make the story public; for now it is known to none
but me, and it shall never pass my lips--not even to my nieces. Dainty
will soon die of her imprisonment, even if she is not tempted to end her
sufferings speedily with the laudanum, and then I shall adopt the two
girls as my heiresses, and take them here to live with me. As for Mrs.
Chase, I hardly know what to do with the woman. They say she woke up
soon after the shooting, and is taking on pitiably about Dainty's flight
and Love's condition. I shall have to show her some kindness, I suppose,
just to keep up appearances."

If she could have looked into the prison to which she had heartlessly
consigned her fair young niece, she would have felt encouraged in her
schemes; for the lovely girl was fading like some fair flower rudely
broken from its stem.

Weeping and praying ceaselessly, she had eaten but a few morsels of the
stale bread, for her anguish made her incapable of hunger; but the
water was all gone in four day