"I will give you just one bite of this if you will return it to me when you have taken it," she said, with a mocking laugh. And Flower promised; but when she had taken as large a bite as her pearly teeth could compass, her horrible hunger and thirst overcame her, and she clung wildly to the luscious fruit, begging, pleading for it, until Jewel forced it from her after a short, sharp struggle, and restored it to her pocket. "You are not half as hungry and thirsty for that delicious fruit as I was hungry and thirsty for Laurie Meredith's love!" she said, bitterly. "I loved him with my whole heart, yet you took him from me, and now you shall suffer for it! Ah, no, Madame Flower, I have not relented! I am not going to give you any food, nor water, nor fresh air; and if I brought a light it was only that I might gloat over your agony when you read something that I came upon accidentally this evening, and which will add the last drop of bitterness to the overflowing cup of your misery." She laughed exultantly, and Flower shrunk back, with her hand before her eyes to shut out the blaze of those angry eyes that burned upon her face. "I--I had better not read it, then. I have borne all that I can bear already," she moaned, faintly. Jewel struck the wasted little white hand rudely away from before Flower's eyes, and said, sharply: "I thought you would be glad to read this paragraph about Laurie Meredith. It explains his seeming desertion and falsity to you." At these words a wild, strangling gasp came from Flower's lips, and she caught eagerly at the paper, while Jewel, with a plump, jeweled finger, pointed out a paragraph marked heavily with black ink. Laurie Meredith's own hand had marked it, and he had sent the paper to Flower many months ago, little dreaming what a terrible purpose it was destined to serve. It was a Boston newspaper, and the paragraph was simply this: "As we go to press we have just heard that our esteemed townsman, Laurie Meredith, died very suddenly last night." CHAPTER XVII. Jewel watched her victim eagerly, breathlessly. She saw the hue of death overspread the lovely, wasted face, the blue eyes, already dim through the tears that had washed their brightness away, dilate in wonder and horror. Oh, how sweet it was to see that look of mortal agony on the face that Laurie Meredith had loved to kiss! Jewel said to herself that in the months since he went away, she had made her successful rival shed a thousand tears for each and every kiss he had pressed on those lovely, rosebud lips. But her thirst for revenge was not sated yet. There was yet another sweet draught waiting for her lips in the near future.