“Whatever is done it must be ended soon, for it is three weeks now since he sailed, and he expected to return in a month.” “Her fate will be sealed before then,” Otho answered, quickly, and added: “If you are ever to win Beresford, it must be done quickly also, for father is on the verge of failure, though reputed a millionaire.” “On the verge of failure--oh, heavens! That is why he refused me the new set of diamonds I craved! Oh, Heaven help me to win Beresford, for I could not endure a life of poverty!” exclaimed Maybelle, hysterically. “I do not see how I am to endure it either; but I did not seem to make any progress with the heiress,” grumbled Otho. “You did not, for she showed her indifference too plainly to encourage the least hope,” agreed his sister, frankly. “Curse her for a proud, haughty jade; but I do not care for her any way. My heart is set on bewitching little Fly-away Floy.” “Then why not marry her, Otho, if you care so much, since that would take her from Beresford as effectually as if she were dead?” “She would not marry me to save my life, the proud little minx! But I’ll have my revenge for her scorn, never fear, and leave the field clear for you to win Beresford,” laughed Otho, gratingly. “Oh, if you succeed, I shall pay you well out of my husband’s riches,” she cried, eagerly. “You may not get the handling of many dollars, and my demands will be exhorbitant,” he grumbled, sighing: “I wish that the foul fiend would deign to show me some royal road to fortune.” It was an aspiration he had uttered often before in his greed for gold and his impatience of his father’s restraints, and no thought came to him that it would be granted soon. Rejoicing in his good luck at finding Floy’s hiding-place at last, he waited most impatiently for the close of the beautiful June day that he might sally forth on his dastardly errand. The sun set in a blaze of golden glory, and the young moon rose over the tree-tops, shedding a tender amber light upon the quiet, resting world. As soon as he could get away unobserved, Otho took the lonely road toward Suicide Place. “She cannot escape me now, my pretty Floy!” he muttered. CHAPTER XXV. HOW THOSE TENDER LETTERS TO ANOTHER MUST HAVE STABBED MAYBELLE’S HEART! “Oh, my darling, a whole life-time of devotion shall teach you the strength of my love. Your life with me, my bonny bride, shall be a dream of bliss.” Floy’s big, starry-blue eyes glowed like blue jewels in the dusk as she read aloud the tender words of her lover’s letter. Then she pressed her rosy lips to the page as fondly as though it had been the handsome face of her absent love. “How he loves me, my noble, splendid, beautiful, dark-eyed lover! He has chosen me, simple little Floy, poor and obscure, out of a whole world of rich and beautiful girls, any one of whom must have loved him if he had so chosen,” she cried in an ecstasy of adoring love.