"It is a lovely home," she said. "I could be very happy here if I had no shadow on my heart. But I cannot forget my sin. I remember always some lines that I have read: 'Some flowers of Eden we still inherit, But the trail of the serpent is over them all.'" "I would not call it a sin if I were you," said Clarice. "That is too harsh a name. My mistress did not call it so. She said it was only a justifiable counter plot, only a harmless, girl's conspiracy." "She ought to know best. She is older and wiser than I am," said the girl, with a gleam of hope on her face. Clarice was very clever for a girl in her situation. As she worked away steadily on the pink dress, she artfully followed up the impression her last words had made: "For my part I think it is the best joke I ever heard of. I do not pity the Gordons one bit. They deserve to be fooled!" she said. "There was no fault in Miss Gordon's lover, only he was not as rich as she was." "Poverty is almost a crime in the eyes of the rich--is it not?" asked her mistress thoughtfully. "Yes," Clarice answered, almost tartly, and she began to hum under her breath: "'Dollars and dimes, dollars and dimes, An empty pocket is the worst of crimes!'" Her young mistress remained gazing thoughtfully from the window, the sad expression of her face hidden by the falling waves of her golden hair. Deep, heavy sighs breathed at intervals over her lips. Several days passed quietly without anything occurring to frighten our masquerading heroine again. The Le Roys gave no sign of their surprise at anything that occurred. They had, in fact, concluded that a great deal of her oddness and originality arose from the fact of the lover in the case. When she looked sad, as she often did, they concluded she was thinking of him. When St. Leon actually came upon her weeping silently one day he thought it was on account of the separation from our hero. It vexed him. He did not go away and leave her alone, as his mother would have done. He said to her, sarcastically: "Are you crying for your mamma, little girl?" Beatrix flashed him a swift, angry look through her tears, and answered: "No!" "At least she has the grace to be honest," he said to himself. Some curiosity came over him regarding the man who had won the heart of this girl. He would have liked to know his name, and what he looked like, and if he was worthy of the prize he had won. "Confide in me, Miss Gordon," he said, obeying an impulse he could not himself understand. "Tell me what your trouble is. Perhaps I can help you." Beatrix shuddered in horror. Ah, if he knew, how little he would be inclined to help her. Rather he would spurn her from the proud gates of Eden. "You are very kind," she faltered. "I thank you, but it is nothing." He looked at her a little scornfully. "I have heard that women cry for nothing," he said. "I suppose it must be true, as I now hear it confirmed by one of the sex."