ower!"

Although her face rested against his, and their hot cheeks burned
together, the old wicked light gleamed in her eyes, and the crimson and
ashy paleness played upon the curled lip. If it all could have been seen
by the reverend gentleman, it would have sobered him. The words "in your
power" had flung the lightning into Lilly Nettleton's face. Power,
power, power! No matter how secured; no matter what the result. The very
word maddened her, made a scheming devil of her, but also made her ready
for any proposition Bland might offer, as it swiftly came into her mind
that the deeper she sank with him the greater would be her power over
him.

"Well?" she said, reassuringly.

"'Well?'--I am at your mercy. A knowledge of what has passed between us
would be my ruin; your ruin also. We have done what cannot be undone;
yes," he continued passionately, and drawing her closer to him, "what I
would not undo!"

"Well?" It was tenderly said, and gave him courage.

"I am rich, or will be, Lilly."

"If you are careful," she added with a light laugh.

"Exactly. I can do a great deal for you, and will----"

"Conditionally?"

"Yes, conditionally. The conditions are that you live quietly at an
elegant place to which we will shortly be driven. You will be mistress
of the place; that is, you will have everything you can desire----"

"Save respectability, Mr. Bland?"

She was shrewder than he--in fact, his master already; but hinted at
the sale of her soul so heartlessly that it shocked even him.

"You had 'respectability' at home, Lilly; and," glancing at her plain
garments, which were a burlesque upon her beautiful figure, "and old
clothes, and surveillance, and restraint, and----"

"Bland," she said, springing to her feet with such violence as to send
him sprawling to the floor, from which he stared in amazement at her
magnificent form, which trembled like a leaf, while the wicked lightning
gleamed from her eyes, and swift shuttles of color flashed back and
forth upon her lips; "Bland, be careful! Never speak to me again of the
meanness of my home. The meanness of your black heart is a million times
greater. You have something more than a country girl to deal with, sir;
you have a woman and a woman's will. It is enough that I have sold my
body and soul for what you can, or might, give me. I bargained for no
contempt; and, Bland," she continued, advancing towards him fiercely as
he regained his feet and retreated from