She looked up at him with shining, love-filled eyes, murmuring: "Please kneel down by me, Jesse, so that I may put my arms around your neck and die with my head upon your breast." He pitied the rash girl so much that he could not refuse her anything in her dying hour. He obeyed her wish, and held his arm around her with her bright head on his bosom, expecting every moment to be her last. But the minutes flew, and Roma showed not a sign of dying. Instead, her breathing was very strong and regular, and she tightened her arms about him, exclaiming: "Oh, my husband, would you be glad if life could be granted to me now, that I might live, your happy bride?" "Do not let us dwell on the impossible, Roma," he answered kindly. "But why impossible, Jesse, dearest? I am not really certain of dying. I do not feel like it now, at all, and perhaps the dose I took was not really sufficient to kill me! Now that I am your wife, it seems as if a new elixir of life is coursing through my veins, and I long to live for your precious sake! Oh, surely you do not wish me to die!" Here was a dilemma, certainly. Jesse Devereaux, holding the warm, palpitating figure in his arms, did not know how to answer her piteous appeal, and he was saved the necessity, for at the moment the door opened, admitting Lyde, followed by Edmund Clarke, with granny, who had forced herself in, bringing up the rear. Lyde had told him hurriedly what had happened, and he had asked to see Roma; hence the intrusion. The bride still clung fondly to her husband, and when they entered, she exclaimed, in strong, natural accents: "Papa, dear, congratulate us. We are married." "So I have heard," he replied, with keen sarcasm, adding: "I was told that you were dying, but you do not look much like it. Your cheeks are red, your eyes bright and clear, and your voice does not falter." Roma actually laughed out softly and triumphantly, saying: "I have just told my dear husband that I do not feel like dying at all, and that love and happiness have given me a new elixir of life." Edmund Clarke would have spared exposing her if it had been really her dying hour, but he saw that she had grossly deceived Devereaux, so he returned, with bitter sarcasm: "As you feel so strong and happy, I have some exciting news to break to you." "News, papa?" sweetly. "Do not call me papa," he answered bitterly. "You know well that I am not related to you, and that your discovery of the truth has caused you to attempt the most heinous crimes to keep my real daughter from coming into her birthright. I am here to tell you that your plot to kill Doctor Jay and myself has been discovered. Your attempted murder of Liane Lester came near success, but, happily, she has revived, and Granny Jenks, your wicked grandmother, has confessed that you were substituted in her place, and that Liane is my own child!" "Heavens!" cried Devereaux, his arms falling from around Roma; but she clung to him, exclaiming passionately: