Alison was not long in bringing a piece of the root which every Texan provided himself with. It was poisonous of itself, but was considered a sure antidote for the bite of the rattlesnake, if taken in time. In Mrs. Van Dorn’s case it was quite positive that Lolita’s prompt measures had been effective, but the girl’s condition was doubtful, and among those who tended her Mrs. Van Dorn was the most devoted, her tears never ceasing to flow as she did so. Laura was completely unnerved, even after she knew that her mother was out of danger. Mrs. Van Dorn drew her to one side. “I cannot leave while that child is in the least danger,” she said, “but you had better go home, Laura. Tell them I am detained and send Blythe to me as soon as you can.” In the course of an hour it was decided that the antidote had proved efficacious and that Lolita was in no danger, though this fact seemed to bring her little satisfaction. Alison, who hovered over her and spoke caressing words to her, did not marvel at her drooping appearance, though it gave Mrs. Van Dorn a sharp pang. Pedro had gone to the village and therefore was not on hand to share the general anxiety, a fact of which all were glad. Not even when Blythe entered did Lolita’s demeanor change. She sat with head drooped on her breast and made no movement to speak to any one. Mrs. Van Dorn hurried out with the others to meet him. “My son, my son,” she cried, “we have had a great escape. Your mother was struck by a rattler and might have died but for that dear child Lolita Garcia.” The tears came again to her eyes. “And what had I done? Struck her as cruel a blow as it was possible for woman to strike. And she received it with meekness and obedience, rewarding me a moment after by utterly forgetting herself and trying to save me. Oh, Blythe, Blythe, I give up. I have no word to say against your choice.” She put her head down on her son’s shoulder and wept softly. Then she led him to the room where Lolita sat as motionless as a statue. Dropping on her knees by the girl’s side and touching her lips to the dull purple spot on the round smooth arm she said: “Dear little girl, here is my son. Will you tell him that he has a very cruel mother, but that you forgive her and will be her daughter some day, for she has suddenly realized that a true heart and an unselfish spirit are worth more than honors or fame can bring. Lolita, dear little Lolita, I want you to call me mother.” “The light that never was on land or sea” glorified Lolita’s face as Blythe, forgetting all else, even his mother, thought only that he had come near to losing Lolita, and taking her in his arms he murmured the words she loved to hear: “Mi corazon, mi vida, mi alma.” “I have but one request to make,” said Mrs. Van Dorn after the three had settled down happily side by side. “You will not marry for a year or so yet, will you, my son?” Blythe looked down at the girl beside him. “It shall be as Lolita says.”