Precious looked searchingly into the dark eyes, circled with heavy purplish rings since morning. "My sister, do you repent?" she asked solemnly. "Repent! Ah, Heaven, I should have died or gone mad if harm had come to that little golden head!" breathed Ethel huskily. "And you will never hate me any more?" sighed Precious. "Never! never!" "Then let us speak no more of that wicked thing--revenge. Try to be good after this, dear sister; try to be worthy of Arthur, and I will forgive you everything," noble little Precious answered, sealing the promise of forgiveness with a gentle kiss. "You are an angel!" sighed Ethel from her overburdened heart, and drew from under her pillow the sealed letter she had sent to Madame La Mode's by the maid. "Read this and you will see how soon I repented of my sin!" she said eagerly, and when Precious had read it through her blue eyes filled with tears and she cried: "I am glad you repented so soon, and if I had not left the modiste's in such a hurry to perform a charitable deed I would have received your message in time to have been prevented from going." They talked earnestly together some time longer, and it was decided to keep to themselves the story of that morning's adventure. Poor Ethel, she still clung to Arthur and the hope of becoming his wife, and in the safety insured by Lindsey Warwick's death and her sister's forgiveness, she thought that no further obstacle could come between her and happiness. Although sincerely repentant for her cruelty to Precious, the leaven of selfishness still worked in her nature, and she could not resign the joy within her reach--the joy of becoming Arthur's wife, and trying to win back his heart. CHAPTER XXXVII. LOVE TRIUMPHANT. "My fair lady's a dear, dear lady; I walked by her side to woo, In a garden alley so sweet and shady; She answered, 'I love not you; Pray now, pray now, go your way now, do!'" * * * * * "Yet my fair lady's my own, own lady, For I passed another day; While making her moan she sat all alone, Do now, do now, once more woo now, do!" --JEAN INGELOW. Earle Winans, acting on his mother's hints, had wasted no time in the prosecution of his love-affair and he did not lack a friend in Lord Chester. Consequently a strategic movement had brought about a communication between the estranged lovers, and Earle's tender letter, avowing his renewed love for Ladybird, brought a repentant one from his darling that placed everything on a very desirable footing, except that it was impossible for them to meet. Mr. Stanley's ward was guarded as jealously as any prisoner, and but for a servant in the house, who was open to bribery, the letters of the young lovers would never have reached them.