It was the opinion of the doctors that life might linger in the poor, worn frame of Evelyn Hilton for many days, although they had believed at the time of her attack that her very minutes were numbered. While her mother still lived, Iris’ lips were effectually sealed, and, recovering at last from the emotion into which St. John’s words had thrown her, she turned to him with the light of desperation in her wide, dilated eyes, and a reckless defiance on her face that filled him with horror and alarm. “I have nothing to tell you, Mr. St. John. I cannot explain the loss of madam’s two hundred dollars, and I must expect to suffer the consequences. If these men will allow me to get my hat and cloak, and will wait just one moment while I bid my mother a last farewell, I shall be ready to accompany them.” She avoided meeting St. John’s eyes as she spoke thus, and turned abruptly from him to the officers in the doorway. “You will not refuse me one moment with my mother, gentlemen, for, oh, sirs, she is dying; we shall meet no more on earth.” There was not a break or a quiver in the girl’s voice now, but the look of dumb agony on her ashen face would have melted a heart of oak, and the men readily agreed to wait until she joined them, first ascertaining, however, that there was no back exit by which she might effect an escape. When she had disappeared up the broad staircase, St. John turned to Isabel, inquiring the whereabouts of her father, with the vague idea that Mr. Hilton would in some manner be able to save Iris--a hope that died again instantly as he remembered Iris’ avowal, which had amounted almost to a confession of guilt. Isabel explained that her father had gone to Riverdale, the residence of an eminent physician, said to be skilled in the treatment of the disease of which Mrs. Hilton was dying, and might not be at home before evening. “What is to be done? I would give half my fortune to spare her this awful ordeal,” cried Chester, in despair. “Oh, men,” turning desperately to the officers, “can any amount of money tempt you to go away and leave Iris Tresilian in peace? I will go at once to this woman to whom the lost money belonged, and repay it, aye, with interest, if she will withdraw her charge, and----” “It is no use, sir,” interrupted one of the officers; “the charge has been made, and it is our duty to take the young lady into custody. I am truly sorry, sir, but I assure you there is no help for it.” St. John realized the truth of this assertion, and knew he could do nothing at present for the unfortunate Iris. “Come, Grace,” he said, gently addressing his weeping sister in a voice that one would scarcely have recognized as his own, “let me take you to the machine. Go home at once, dear, and leave me to see what steps may be taken in this dreadful affair. Your loyalty to Iris has taught me a lesson, Gracie, and from this hour she shall find in me as faithful a brother as you have been a sister to her.”