set every day for seven long years, in
the field, in the vineyard, or the dairy, ever since my poor, foolish
mother married her tyrant husband. I do it no more. I take care of
myself and be no man's slave, and I marry whom I will, when the right
one and the right time come. But first," she continued, eagerly, her
face lightning with intense longing, "I study; I learn about the world
and other things, like some lovely French girls I saw at Mentone last
year, who told me all about the flowers, the birds, the earth, and the
sea. Oh! I weep when I think of how much there is to know, and I have
lost it all--all!" and her voice grew tremulous with repressed feeling
as she concluded.

"Poor child! you surely ought to have an education if you want it so
much," said her sympathetic listener, in a kindly tone, while she
regarded the girl's eager face almost affectionately. "But are you not
afraid that your cruel step-father will go after you and bring you
back?"

"Tasso Simone would beat me black and blue if he should catch me," she
said, with a shiver, as if she recalled some experience of the kind.
"Ah! if I had but a disguise he would not know me--I get away better."

A bright idea seemed suddenly to strike her companion, for her face
lighted eagerly.

"Let us exchange clothing," she exclaimed, "then no one will recognize
either of us."

"Ah! but the signorina has such beautiful clothes, while mine are so
poor," sighed Lisette, in a deprecatory tone, but with a wistful glance
over the daintily made traveling suit, at the tasteful hat, and
expensive boots which her companion wore.

"Never mind; yours are neat and whole, and no one would ever think of
looking for me in them, while you will be much more likely to succeed in
eluding your cruel father in mine," the young stranger persisted.

"The signorina is very kind," Lisette said, gratefully, as, with an
impulsive movement, she bent forward and kissed the fair white hand that
lay within her reach, while it seemed to her simple heart that she
should feel like a princess in that lovely dark-grey cloth dress, with
its daintily stitched bands of blue silk.

Alas! she did not dream that it was to become her shroud.

Yes, as has doubtless been surmised, it was Violet whom Lisette Vermilet
had found lying asleep upon the pile of sea-weed in the fisherman's
shed.

After refusing to admit her sister to her room on the night previous to
the day appointed for her wedding, she