"Don't touch me," he cried. "Put your lips to the gutter of the streets, if you will, but not to such pitch and foulness as I have become." "Oh, papa, have mercy!" she pleaded. "Mercy!" he repeated, with a laugh that froze her blood, "there is no mercy on earth nor in heaven," and he waved her away, and again turned his face to the outer darkness. "Millie, oh, Millie, what IS the matter?" cried Belle, shocked at her sister's horror-stricken face. "Oh, Belle, is there any good God?" "Millie, I'm bewildered. What does it all mean? The evening that began so brightly seems ending in tragedy." "Yes, tragedy in bitter truth. Hope is murdered, life poisoned, hearts made to bleed from wounds that can never heal. Belle, papa loves opium better than he does you or me, better than his wife and little helpless children, better than heaven and his own soul. Would to God I had never lived to see this day!" CHAPTER XXXII A BLACK CONSPIRACY On the following morning Mrs. Jocelyn was ill and much depressed from the reaction of the drug that had been given without her knowledge, and after learning all that had transpired she sank into an almost hopeless apathy. Mildred also was unable to rise, and Belle went to their respective employers and obtained a leave of absence for a day or two, on the ground of illness in the family. Mrs. Wheaton now proved herself a discreet and very helpful friend, showing her interest by kindly deeds and not by embarrassing questions. Indeed she was so well aware of the nature of the affliction that overwhelmed the family that she was possessed by the most dismal forebodings as well as the deepest sympathy. Mr. Jocelyn had departed at an early hour, leaving a note wherein he stated that he might be absent some days seeking employment in a neighboring city. He had felt that it would be impossible to meet his family immediately after the experiences of the previous day. Indeed he had gone away with the desperate resolve that he would break his habit or never return; but alas for the resolves of an opium slave! Time dragged heavily on, the family living under a nightmare of anxiety, fear, and horrible conjectures. What might he not do? What new phase of the tragedy would hereafter be developed? Now that the busy season was over, the girls found that they could retain their position as saleswomen only by accepting whatever their employers chose to pay, and the thrifty shopkeepers satisfied their consciences with the thought that they could obtain scores of others at even lower prices. Mr. Schriven, in the multiplicity of other interests, had almost forgotten Belle, and she had become in his mind merely a part of the establishment. Her dejected face and subdued manner excited some remark among her companions when she again appeared, but her explanation, "Mother is ill," quieted all curiosity.