ng to come upon a girl!" "This" was
somewhat indefinite, but Madge understood, and perhaps it will be clear to
you what Dorothy meant. The girl continued: "She forgets all else. It will
drive her to do anything, however wicked. For some strange cause, under
its influence she does not feel the wrong she does. It acts upon a girl's
sense of right and wrong as poppy juice acts on pain. Before it came upon
me in--in such terrible force, I believe I should have become ill had I
told my father a falsehood. I might have equivocated, or I might have
evaded the truth in some slight degree, but I could not have told a lie.
But now it is as easy as winking."

"And I fear, Dorothy," responded Madge, "that winking is very easy for
you."

"Yes," answered candid Dorothy with a sigh.

"It must be a very great evil," said Madge, deploringly.

"One might well believe so," answered Dorothy, "but it is not. One
instinctively knows it to be the essence of all that is good."

Madge asked, "Did Sir John tell you that--that he--"

"Yes," said Dorothy, covering her face even from the flickering rays of
the rushlight.

"Did you tell him?"

"Yes," came in reply from under the coverlet.

After a short silence Dorothy uncovered her face.

"Yes," she said boldly, "I told him plainly; nor did I feel shame in so
doing. It must be that this strange love makes one brazen. You, Madge,
would die with shame had you sought any man as I have sought John. I would
not for worlds tell you how bold and over-eager I have been."

"Oh, Dorothy!" was all the answer Madge gave.

"You would say 'Oh, Dorothy,' many times if you knew all." Another pause
ensued, after which Madge asked:--

"How did you know he had been smoking?"

"I--I tasted it," responded Dorothy.

"How could you taste it? I hope you did not smoke?" returned Madge in
wonderment.

Dorothy smothered a little laugh, made two or three vain attempts to
explain, tenderly put her arms about Madge's neck and kissed her.

"Oh, Dorothy, that certainly was wrong," returned Madge, although she had
some doubts in her own mind upon the point.

"Well, if it is wrong," answered Dorothy, sighing, "I don't care to live."

"Dorothy, I fear you are an immodest girl," said Madge.

"I fear I am, but I don't care--John, John, John!"

"How came he to speak of your lower lip?" asked Madge. "It certainly is
very beautiful; but how came he to speak of it?"

"It was after--after--once," responded Doroth