"If I could understand," began Ferrol,--"if I could realize----" "Ask your sister," she replied. "It was her plan. I--I" (with a little sob) "am only her experiment." Olivia came forward, looking wholly subdued. Her eyes were wet, too. "It is true," she said. "It is all my fault." "May I ask you to explain?" said Ferrol, rather sternly. "I suppose some of this has been for my benefit." "Don't speak in that tone," said Olivia. "It is bad enough as it is. I--I never was so wretched in my life. I never dreamed of its turning out in this way. She was so pretty and gentle and quick to take a hint, and--I wanted to try the experiment--to see if you would guess at the truth. I--I had a theory, and I was so much interested that--I forgot to--to think of her very much. I did not think she would care." Louisiana broke in. "Yes," she said, her eyes bright with pain, "she forgot. I was very fond of her, and I knew so very little that she forgot to think of me. I was only a kind of plaything--but I was too proud to remind her. I thought it would be soon over, and I knew how ignorant I was. I was afraid to trust my feelings at first. I thought perhaps--it was vanity, and I ought to crush it down. I was very fond of her." "Oh!" cried Olivia, piteously, "don't say 'was,' Louise!" "Don't say 'Louise,'" was the reply. "Say 'Louisiana.' I am not ashamed of it now. I want Mr. Ferrol to hear it." "I have nothing to say in self-defense," Laurence replied, hopelessly. "There is nothing for any of us to say but good-by," said Louisiana. "We shall never see each other again. It is all over between us. You will go your way and I shall go mine. I shall stay here to-night. You must drive back to the Springs without me. I ought never to have gone there." Laurence threw himself into a chair and sat shading his face with his hand. He stared from under it at the shining wet grass and leaves. Even yet he scarcely believed that all this was true. He felt as if he were walking in a dream. The worst of it was this desperate feeling that there was nothing for him to say. There was a long silence, but at last Louisiana left her place and came and stood before him. "I am going to meet my father," she said. "I persuaded him that I was only playing a joke. He thought it was one of my fancies, and he helped me out because I asked him to do it. I am going to tell him that I have told you the truth. He wont know why I did it. I will make it easy for you. I shall not see you again. Good-by." Ferrol's misery got the better of him. "I can't bear this!" he cried, springing up. "I can't, indeed." She drew back. "Why not?" she said. "Nothing has hurt _you_." The simple coldness of her manner was very hard upon him, indeed. "You think I have no right to complain," he answered, "and yet see how you send me away! You speak as if you did not intend to let me see you again----"