“I dare not stay longer,” sobbed Pansy. She bent down and whispered hurriedly: “Alice, I will send you some money anonymously, and you must let no one know it came from me. Spend it for yourself, mamma, and Nora. Good-by, darling!” And, pressing her lips to her sister’s cheek in despairing love, she rose upright, and said anxiously: “Mr. Finley, I must go now, or they will come in and find me here.” She had pushed her thick veil back to the top of her bonnet, and her beautiful, pale face was clearly defined, even in the dim light of the room. Mr. Finley had forgotten that in this room, which was upon the first floor, there was a window that opened upon a narrow alley. The shutters were drawn, but the sash was raised, and Willie Laurens, anxious to see how Alice was, but fearful of intruding on the strict quiet prescribed for her, had tiptoed through the alley and slanted the shutters that he might gaze into the room. He saw with amazement the beautiful form kneeling by Alice and clasping her in its tender arms, saw the fond parting kiss, heard the words addressed to Mr. Finley, and beheld with mad, murderous rage the beautiful, despairing face of the sister whose sin had disgraced him and put the girl he loved so far above his reach. The seed Mr. Finley had industriously planted in his pliant mind had grown by now into a tree that was ready to bear deadly fruit. With a smothered imprecation, he rushed back into the store, and presently, when Pansy came stealing through the darkened hallway on her way to the street, her brother was waiting for her with the fires of hell in his young heart. He lifted the pistol in his hand, fired, and Pansy fell, bathed in blood, just inside the doorway. CHAPTER XXX. A SUPPOSED SUICIDE. In the very moment that Willie Laurens beheld his doomed sister fall by his hand, a torrent of remorse and despair overwhelmed the anger that had hurried him on to the awful deed, and, hurling the pistol from his grasp, he rushed to her side, and fell down on his knees, uttering bitter cries of remorse and self-reproach. Mr. Finley, coming instantly upon the scene, dragged him furiously to his feet. “You devil, you have killed your sister! Now fly, fly, and save yourself from the law!” But even while he spoke, the dining-room door was thrown violently open, and Mrs. Finley, followed by Nora, rushed upon the scene. By the light thrown from the open doorway of the room they had left, Pansy’s recumbent figure, with the blood flowing from it, was plainly seen on the floor. “Oh, Heaven, what is this?” cried the distracted woman, and Willie wrenched himself loose from his stepfather’s hold, and answered despairingly: “Mother, it is Pansy. She came back, as this wretch here was always hinting she would, and my fiendish temper got the better of me----”