But her lips seemed parched and dry, her tongue clung to the roof of her mouth, feeling stiff and swollen and almost paralyzed. Life seemed swiftly ebbing, and her foe sat there watching her gloatingly. A moment of sharp, cruel, agonized struggling against the awful sensation, and Molly swooned as her enemy had predicted. It was the hour of Louise’s triumph. She ran into the dressing-room and quickly possessed herself of a long cloth cloak with a hood. Running back, she threw aside the bed-covers and flung the cloak around Molly’s form. Then she attempted to lift the girl in her strong arms and bear her away as she had threatened. To her surprise she found that the burden was too heavy for her strength and dropped it back on the bed with a muttered exclamation of dismay. “Why, I have lifted her up and shaken her a hundred times. What does this mean?” she exclaimed, and flung back the cloak from the silent form. A cry of rage escaped her lips, and her eyes flashed with fury. She had found out Molly’s shyly guarded secret at a glance. Louise Barry almost went wild with rage at this discovery. She pushed Molly’s silent form rudely from her, and exclaimed, angrily: “I hate her more than ever now, for if he knows this he will return to her for his own honor’s sake. What shall I do, what shall I do to keep them apart, for my secret will be betrayed it she meets him again.” The door opened and Phebe stalked in, grim and anxious. When she saw Molly lying pallid and unconscious on the bed, she uttered a cry of alarm and pushed Louise roughly away. “What have you done to my poor young mistress?” she exclaimed. “I have done nothing. It is a faint, simply,” Louise answered, carelessly. “It looks like death,” Phebe muttered, bringing _eau-de-Cologne_ to lave the girl’s face and hands. Her eyes at that moment fell on the thick cloak. “Who put this cloak here?” she exclaimed, suspiciously. “I did. She seemed so chilly that I laid it over her to keep her warm,” the wily woman answered, coolly. Phebe turned upon her, her rough, homely face pale with anger. “I don’t believe you,” she said, bluntly. “I believe you’ve tried to spirit Mrs. Laurens away, and I came in here just in time to prevent you!” “How dare you talk to me so, woman? I have a right to take her away if I choose. She is my step-sister, and I am the guardian of her honor.” “You’re her tormentor, and you’ve made all this mischief between her and her husband, and if you don’t get out of here pretty quick I’ll put you out by force!” stormed Phebe, losing her temper, in her resentment against the audacious intruder.