my work is done. Ah! how dared I think to become one
of you--I, whom you rescued from a gambler's den; I who go about
disguised, and play the servant to people whom you would not touch.
You are right; after this I will go my way alone."

Her voice became inarticulate, the last word was a sob, and she turned
swiftly to leave the room.

Olive sprang forward with a remorseful cry, but Clarence Vaughan
motioned her back, and with a quick stride was at the door, one hand
upon it, the other firmly clasping the wrist of the now sobbing girl.
Closing the door, which she had partially opened, he led her back,
very gently, but firmly, and placing her in a chair, stood beside her
until the sobs ceased. Then he drew a chair close to her own, and
said, softly:

"My little sister, we never meant this. These are your own morbid
fancies. Because you are playing the part of amateur detective, you
are not necessarily cut off from all your friends. We would not give
you up so easily, and there is too much that is good and noble in you
to render your position so very dangerous to your womanhood. You have
grieved Mrs. Girard deeply by imputing any such meaning to her words.
Can't you understand, child, that it is because we care for you,
because we want to shield you from the hardships you must of necessity
undergo, that we wish you to let us work with and for you?"

Madeline shivered and gave a long, sobbing sigh. He took both listless
hands in his own.

"Now, sister mine, won't you make me a promise, just one?"

Her hands trembled under his. How could she resist him when his
strong, firm clasp was upon her; when he was looking into her eyes
pleadingly, even tenderly; when his breath was on her cheek, and his
voice murmured in her ear? She sat before him, contrite, conquered,
strangely happy; conscious of nothing save a wish that she might die
then and there, with her hands in his. She was afraid to speak and
break the spell. He had said that he cared for her, was not that
enough?

"Tell me, Madeline."

"Yes," she breathed, rather than uttered.

[Illustration: "Yes," she cried, wildly, "I know; you need not say
it"--page 219.]

"Thank you. Now, sister, we are going to trust to your sagacity in
this matter. But you must promise me, as your brother, who is bound to
look after your welfare, that you will take no decisive steps without
first informing us, and that as soon as the work becomes too heavy for
your hands, you will ca