"You asked me to marry you," she hissed. "Must no one ask your immaculate sisters to do this, that you could not answer my simple question? Or, did you mean something else? How dare you exist longer in the semblance of a man? You have broken the sacred law of hospitality, and here, in my little home that has sheltered you, you purpose my destruction. You take mean advantage of my poverty and trouble, and like a cowardly hunter must seek out a wounded doe as your game. My grief and misfortune should have made a sanctuary about me, but the orphaned and unfortunate, God's trust to all true men, only invite your evil designs, because defenceless. Wretch, would you have made me this offer if my father had lived, or if I had a brother?" "It's all Van Dam's work, curse him," groaned Gus, white as a ghost. "Van Dam's work!" shrieked Edith, "and he's with Zell! So this is a conspiracy. You both are the flower of chivalry," and her mocking, half-hysterical laugh curdled Gus's blood, as her dress fluttered down the path that led to the arbor. She appeared in the doorway like a sudden, supernatural vision, Zell's head rested on Mr. Van Dam's shoulder, and he was portraying in low, ardent tones the pleasures of city life, which would be hers as his wife. "It is true," he had said, "our marriage must be secret for the present. You must learn to trust me. But the time will soon come when I can acknowledge you as my peerless bride." Foolish little Zell was too eager to escape present miseries to be nice and critical as to the conditions, and too much in love, too young and unsuspecting, to doubt the man who had petted her from a child. She agreed to do anything he thought best. Then Edith's entrance and terrible words broke her pretty dream in fragments. Snatching her sister from Van Dam's embrace, she cried passionately: "Leave this place. Your villany is discovered." "Really, Miss Edith"--began Van Dam with a poor show of dignity. "Leave instantly!" cried Edith imperiously. "Do you wish me to strike you?" "Edith, are you mad?" cried Zell. "Your sister must have lost her reason," said Van Dam, approaching Zell. "Stand back," cried Edith sternly. "I may go mad before this hateful night passes, but while I have strength and reason left, I will drive the wolves from our fold. Answer me this: have you not been proposing secret marriage to my sister?" Her face looked spirit-like in the pale moonlight, and her eyes blazed like coals of fire. As she stood there with her arm around her bewildered, trembling sister, she seemed a guardian angel holding a baffled fiend at bay. This was literally true, for even hardened Van Dam quailed before her, and took refuge in the usual resource of his satanic ally--lies. "I assure you, Miss Edith, you do me great injustice. I have only asked your sister that our marriage be private for a time--"