“You have taken the fortune, robbed me of all but Laurie’s love! Leave me that, I implore you!” “Are you so sure of his love?” demanded the heiress hoarsely. “As sure as I am of my own existence!” Lelia felt, somehow, that everything depended on this answer, so she did not hesitate at the falsehood. She waited with wild impatience for the answer, as a criminal condemned to die waits for a pardon or even a reprieve. The footsteps were almost at the door. She longed to catch hold of the girl and shake the answer from her mute lips. Another moment and it would be too late! But the pale lips moved slowly, uttering words so low that Lelia had to bend her ear to catch them: “I will keep your hideous secret for his sake, because he loves you!” With a cry of joy Lelia sprang to her feet just as Magdala’s hand thrust aside the curtain, ushering her two companions into the tent. Oh, how glad she was that she had told Gipsy that falsehood. It was all that had saved the girl from betraying her guilty secret. She saw now, too, that Gipsy loved Laurie also--loved him so dearly that to save his heart the cruel pang of knowing his beloved unworthy she had consented to keep inviolate one of the most hideous secrets in the world. Like the consummate actress she was, Lelia threw back her head and laughed as they entered the tent. “You see I am here before you!” she cried gaily. “I was determined to be the first to congratulate our dear girl on her transformation from Gipsy, the waif, to Miss Whitney, the heiress. So I jumped on my wheel and arrived here before you.” Gipsy, as we cannot help calling her still, sat up on her couch, straightening her white gown about her, and blushing and paling by turns at their entrance. General Willoughby took her hand, and said kindly: “Magdala has told us all about you, and I find that I knew your grandfather intimately. We were at college together. I wish I had known who you were sooner. It would have made quite a difference in your life, I assure you. But all’s well that ends well. I have to congratulate you on being my sister’s heiress.” “I thank you, sir, for your kind words, and I am grateful to the dead for her generosity; but I would rather have her back again in life than to possess a million!” the girl murmured, with irrepressible tears. “Bosh! All put on for effect!” Lelia thought impatiently, then started with jealous anger, seeing her husband approach and take Gipsy’s hand. He said tremulously: “I agree with you that there are losses all the wealth of the world could not pay for, Miss Whitney. Your loss was one of them, my dear aunt’s another. Your supposed death broke her heart, and left a heavy shadow upon mine. I congratulate myself as well as you on your restoration to life.” “I thank you,” she faltered, her eyes drooping before the ardent glow of his, while Lelia thought bitterly: