ered the woman; "I must do it!"

"Oh, Bessie, dear Bessie! Get up! Don't look so! Oh, for heaven's sake!
Bessie, Bessie!"

Elsie threw herself upon the floor beside her sister, crying and
shrieking, clinging to her, and hiding her face in her dress. Her
agitation and wild terror recalled Elizabeth to her senses. She
disengaged herself from Elsie's arms and staggered to her feet.

"It's over now," she said, feebly, with the weariness of a person
exhausted by some violent exertion; "I am better--better now."

"Oh, you frightened me so."

"I will not frighten you again. Don't cry; I am strong now."

"What was the matter? Did you see anything?"

"No, no. I was only thinking; it all came up so real before me--so
horrible."

"But it may be made safe yet," urged Elsie. "If you can escape this
time--only this once."

She did not connect herself with the trouble which might befall her
sister. Even in that moment of anguish, her craft and her selfishness
made her remember to keep present in Elizabeth's mind the promise she
had made.

"Only this once," she repeated.

"It is too late," returned Elizabeth. "I knew the day would come--it is
here!"

"But he can't discover anything, Bessie, when everybody is abed."

"Have you thought what I must do?" she broke in. "The horror of
appealing to that man is almost worse to bear than exposure and ruin."

Elsie wrung her hands.

"Don't give way now. You have borne up so long; don't give way when a
little courage may save everything."

"I shall not give way; I shall go through with it. But, Elsie, it will
all be useless; the end has come, deception cannot prosper forever."

"No, it hasn't! I'm sure it hasn't! Think how many secrets are kept for
ever. It needs so little now to make all secure; only don't give way,
Bessie--don't give way."

"Be quiet, child; I shall not fail!"

Elizabeth walked away and left the girl crouching upon the floor, went
to the glass and looked at herself. The rouge Elsie had rubbed on her
cheeks burned there yet, making the deathly pallor of her face still
more ghastly; her eyes gleamed out of the black shadows that circled
them so full of agony and fear that she turned away with a shudder. Her
hair had fallen loose, and streamed wildly about her shoulders. She
bound it up again, arranged her dress and recommenced her restless walk.

"Get up, Elsie," she said; "some one may come in."

Elsie took refuge on her sofa, and sobbed herself into a