Queenie only cast a look of scorn upon him as she took her place at the breakfast-table. Her heart was infused with fresh courage owing to the noble conduct of the farmer and his wife in repelling the persecutions of Leon Vinton. She determined to get the farmer to go into town for her father, and she resolved that these kind people should be most liberally rewarded for the resolute course by which they had secured her happiness. So inspired was she by this brilliant hope, and so strengthened by the warm coffee, that a faint flush came into her cheek, and her blue eyes sparkled with excitement and animation. "Your breakfast has set you up quite a bit, ma'am," exclaimed Mrs. Thorn, admiringly. "You don't hardly look like the same woman we took up for dead in the road." "Your kindness has put new life in me, madam," answered Queenie, gratefully. "It is the hope of escape from this man that fills me with joy and lights up my face with gladness." "Poor dear!" exclaimed the woman, turning a look of scorn on Vinton as he still moodily paced the floor. "Ah, madam," exclaimed he, catching that look, "in a little while, when my sister arrives and corroborates my story, you will see how much you have wronged me in giving credence to the senseless ravings of this poor lunatic." Even as he spoke there was a stir and a bustle at the door. The farmer hastened to open it, and Mrs. Bowers, elegantly dressed and visibly excited, rushed in. Leon Vinton sprang to meet her. "Oh, my dear sister!" he exclaimed, "I have found our poor little one!" Mrs. Bowers took the cue at once. "Oh, brother!" she cried, theatrically, "you fill me with joy! What tortures, what agonies I have endured in the fear that she was dead!" She rolled her eyes around the room, and seeing Queenie sitting near the fire, ran up and vigorously embraced her. "Oh, my poor, unhappy darling," she cried, "how could you grieve your poor old sister so?" Queenie pushed her off frantically like the mad creature they accused her of being. "You are not my sister," she cried, angrily. "Go away Mrs. Bowers. You cannot impose on these good people with your shameless lies! They would not believe Leon Vinton and they will not believe you. They are friends to me, and they will help me back to my husband." Mrs. Bowers threw up her hands and looked at her coadjutor in villainy sadly. "You see she is still as mad as a March hare," he answered, "and would you believe it, Alice, dear, our little sister has so imposed on these good people with her cunning insanity, that they actually believe her stories, and look upon me, her devoted brother, as a perjured villain seeking her destruction. They will not even permit me to remove my poor, demented sister home without proof of my assertion." Mrs. Bowers looked around at the farmer and his wife with an air of indulgent pity.