her position, and
now commanded a view through the open door of Mabel's chamber. She saw
the poor lady move wearily toward a bed, which stood like a snowdrift in
the midst of the room, and pulling the cloud of white lace, which
enveloped it aside, with her trembling hands, fell wearily down upon the
pillows, and dropped away into tranquil slumber, like a child that had
played itself to sleep in a daisy field.

Mabel had asked for strength, and God gave her its first tranquilizing
element--rest.

Agnes stood motionless till the lace curtains above the sleeper closed
again, leaving nothing visible upon the snowy white beneath but the
calm, sleeping face of Mabel Harrington, gleaming as it were through a
cloud, and the folds of her azure shawl, that lay around her like
fragments of the blue sky. Mrs. Harrington had evidently sunk into a
heavy slumber, but Agnes kept her concealment some time after this, for
Fair-Star was still vigilant, and she shrunk from his glances as if they
had been human.

But the dog crept into his mistress's chamber at last, and then Agnes
Barker stole from her fragrant hiding-place, and entered the boudoir
again.

The escritoir was closed, but Agnes saw with joy that the key still
remained in its lock, and that Mrs. Harrington had left her watch upon a
marble console close by. Stealing across the room, and holding her
wicked breath, as if she felt that it would poison the air of that
tranquil room, she crept to the escritoir, turned the key, and
stealthily drawing forth the vellum book, dropped on one knee, while she
reached forth her hand, drawing the watch softly to her lap.

There was a quiver in her hands as she unlocked that little golden
heart, forcing it asunder with a jerk, for the dog came back just then,
and stood regarding her with his clear, honest eyes. She strove to evade
him, and gleams of angry shame stole across her cheeks as she laid down
the watch, and stole, like the thief that she was, through the sash
door, along the pretty labyrinth of flowers, and into another door that
opened upon one end of the balcony.

And Mabel slept on, while this ruthless girl was tearing the secret from
her life.

CHAPTER XIV.

RALPH'S LOVE CHASE.

It was an uncomfortable breakfast-table to which the Harringtons sat
down that morning. The lady of the house and Lina, its morning-star,
were both absent, and the servant, who stood at the coffee-urn ready to
distribute its contents