Next day Sukey asked Tom to drive her to the gypsy camp, but she did not explain that her purpose was to buy a love powder with which she hoped to win another man. Sukey, with all her amiable disposition,--Billy Little used to say she was as good-natured as a hound pup,--was a girl who could kiss your lips, gaze innocently into your eyes, and betray you to Cæsar, all unconscious of her own perfidy. Rita was her friend. Still she unblushingly borrowed her money, hoping therewith to steal Dic. Tom was her encouraged lover; still she wished him to help her in obtaining the love powder by which she might acquire the love of another man. Sukey was generous; but the world and the people thereof were made for her use, and she, of course, would use them. She did not know she was false--but why should I dwell upon poor Sukey's peccadilloes as if she were the only sinner, or responsible for her sins? Who is responsible for either sin or virtue? Rita deserved no praise for being true, pure, gentle, and unselfish. Those qualities were given with her heart. The Chief Justice should not be censured because she held peculiar theories of equity and looked upon the words "as we forgive those who trespass against us" as mere surplusage. She was born with her theories and opinions. Sukey should not be blamed because of her dimples and her too complacent smiles. For what purpose were dimples and smiles created save to give pleasure, and incidentally to cause trouble? But I promise there shall be no more philosophizing for many pages to come. Sukey, by the help of Tom and Rita, purchased her love powder, and, being eager to administer it, informed Rita that evening that she intended to return home next morning. Accordingly, she departed, leaving Rita to receive alone the attentions of her persistent lover. Within a week or two after Sukey's return, Dic, having almost recovered, went to see Rita. He was not able to go a-horseback, so he determined to take the stage, and Billy Little went with him as body-guard. While they waited for the coach in Billy's back room, Williams became the topic of conversation. "He will marry Rita in spite of you," said Billy, "if you don't take her soon. What do you say? Shall we bring her home with us to-morrow? She was eighteen last week." Billy was eager to carry off the girl, for he knew the Williams danger, and stood in dread of it. Dic sprang from his chair, delighted with the proposition. The thought of possessing Rita to-morrow carried with it a flood of rapturous emotions. "How can we bring her?" he asked. "We can't kidnap her from her mother." "Perhaps Rita may be induced to kidnap herself," remarked Billy. "If we furnish the plan, do you believe Rita will furnish the girl? Will she come with us?" You see Billy, as well as Dic, was eloping with this young lady. "Yes, she will come when I ask her," returned Dic, with confidence.