If Roma had known the old woman's miserly character she would have been even more surprised at her fancy. As it was, she hardly knew what to say. She gazed in disgust at the ugly, yellow-skinned and wrinkled old hag, and wondered if she could bring herself to touch that face with her own fresh, rosy lips. "I--I would rather give you a hundred dollars than to kiss you!" she blurted out, in passionate disgust. Instantly she saw she had made a grave mistake. Granny drew back angrily from the haughty girl, muttering: "Hoity-toity, what pride! But pride always goes before a fall!" "What do you mean?" flashed Roma. A moment's silence, and granny answered cringingly: "I only meant that you would be humiliated if that pretty Liane stole Devereaux's heart from you and married him. The other night I beat Liane for walking with him on the beach by moonlight!" "Heavens! It is worse even than I thought!" cried Roma, springing to her feet, pale with passion. She advanced toward granny, adding: "Will you take her away by to-morrow, and never let him see her face again if I grant your wish?" "I swear it, honey!" "There, then!" and Roma held up her fresh, rosy lips, shuddering with disgust as the old crone gave her an affectionate kiss that smacked very strongly of an old pipe. "Be sure that you keep your promise!" she cried, hastening from the house. Granny watched her until she was out of sight, clasping her skinny arms across her breast, after the fashion of one fondling a beloved child. "How proud, how beautiful!" she kept saying over to herself in delight. Then she went in and closed the door, while she sat down to make her plans for gratifying Roma's wish. Not a breath of last night's happenings had reached her, for she seldom held communication with any one, being feared and hated by the whole community, as much as Liane was loved and pitied. She knew nothing of the popular beauty contest, and that Liane had won the prize of a hundred dollars. If she had known, she would have managed to get possession of the money ere now. Liane, having spent the night with Mary Lang, had gone to her work from there, and was having an ovation from her girl friends, who put self aside and rejoiced with her over her triumph. The proud and happy girl answered gratefully: "But for your persuasions I should never have ventured to send in my picture for the contest. I want to testify my gratitude by giving each of you five dollars to buy a pretty keepsake." They protested they would not take a penny of her little fortune, but the generous girl would not be denied. "I have seventy-five dollars left! I am rich yet!" she cried gayly, for Liane was the happiest girl in the world to-day. But it was neither her signal triumph nor the money that made her happy, it was because she had seen Jesse Devereaux again, and his radiant, dark eyes had told her the story of his love as plain as words.