The eyes of both sisters glowed as they caught sight of the magnificent, palatial house, and each resolved, in the depths of her heart, that this should be her home, and that she should reign mistress there. Jay Gardiner divided his attentions so equally between the two sisters that neither could feel the least bit slighted. The fortnight that followed flew by on golden wings. There was not a day that Jay Gardiner did not take the two sisters on some sight-seeing expedition. Every one began to wonder which of the sisters was the favorite. Mrs. Pendleton watched affairs with the keenest interest. "If he has a preference for either, it is certainly Louise," she told herself. "Sally seems content that it should be so." All night long, after these afternoon excursions, both girls would seek their pillows, and dream the whole night through of handsome Jay Gardiner. Louise would talk of him all the following morning, but Sally uttered no word; her secret was buried down in the depths of her heart. Other young men of the village sought a pleasant word or a smile from gay, capricious Sally Pendleton. But she would have none of them. "I will have a millionaire or nothing," she said, with a little laugh. On two or three occasions, much to Sally's chagrin, Mr. Gardiner invited Louise to drive without her. "That shows which way the wind is beginning to blow," she thought; and she looked at her sister critically. Louise and her mother often had long conferences when she came in from her rambles with him. "Has he spoken?" Mrs. Pendleton would ask; and she always received the same answer in a disappointed tone--"No!" "Any other girl would have had a declaration from the young man before this time." "If I could make the man propose, I would be his betrothed without a day's delay," Louise would reply, quite discontentedly. Sally would turn away quickly before they had time to notice the expression on her face. One day, in discussing the matter, Mr. Pendleton observed his younger daughter gazing fixedly at her mother and Louise. "Love affairs do not interest you, Sally," he said, with a laugh. "My dear," he said, suddenly, "you are not at all like your mother in disposition. Could you ever love any one very much?" "I do not know, papa," she answered. "I do not love many people. I only care for a few. In the way you mean, love would be a fire with me, not a sentiment." How vividly the words came back to him afterward when her love proved a devastating fire! She had turned suddenly to the window, and seemed to forget his question. No one knew what a depth of passion there was in the heart of this girl. If any one should have asked her what she craved most on earth, she would have replied, on the spur of the moment--"Love!" CHAPTER III. THE TERRIBLE WAGER AT THE GREAT RACE. A month had gone by since the two sisters had met the one man who was to change the whole course of their lives.