mpossible to guess
it.

As Jessie Bain did not reply to the remark which she had just made, Miss
Duncan went on hurriedly, "There is not one man in a thousand who proves
true to the woman to whom he has plighted his troth. The next pretty
face he sees turns his head. I should never want to marry a man, or even
to be engaged to one if I knew that he had ever had another love.

"By the way," she asked, suddenly lowering her voice, "I am surprised to
see Mr. Varrick looking so cheerful after the experience he has had with
his love affair."

"He was too good for that proud heiress," Jessie declared, indignantly.
"I think Heaven intended that he should be spared from such a marriage.
I-- I fairly detest her name. Please do not let us talk about her, Miss
Duncan. I like to speak well of people, but I can think of nothing save
what is bad to say of her."

With this she rose hastily, excused herself, and hurried from the room,
leaving her companion smarting from the stinging words that had fallen
from her lips.

"The impudent creature!" fairly gasped the heiress, flinging aside her
embroidery and pacing up and down the floor like a caged animal. "I
shall take a bitter revenge on her for this, or my name is not Gerelda
Northrup!"

The more she thought of it, the deeper her anger took root. They brought
her a tempting little repast; but she pushed the tea-tray from her,
leaving its contents untasted. She felt that food would have choked her.

The sun went down, and the moon rose clear and bright over the distant
hills. One by one the lights in the Varrick mansion went out, and the
clock in the adjacent steeple struck the hours until midnight. Still
Gerelda Northrup paced up and down the narrow room, intent upon her own
dark thoughts.

One o'clock chimed from the steeple, and another hour rolled slowly by;
then suddenly she stopped short, and crossed the room to where her
satchel lay on the wide window-sill. Opening it, she drew from it a
small vial containing white, glistening crystals, and hid it nervously
in her bosom; then, with trembling feet, she recrossed the room, opened
her door, and peered breathlessly out into the dimly lighted corridor.
No sound broke the awful stillness.

Closing the door gently after her, the great heiress tiptoed her way
down the wide hall like a thief in the night, her footfalls making no
sound on the velvet carpet. Jessie's was the last door at the end of
the corridor. Miss Duncan knew