Mrs. Winans had taken to her bed, a weak, nervous, weeping woman, and the physician declared that she would never rise from it again unless her daughter were soon restored. Her husband looked like a man whose mind might go wrong at any moment. Ethel, who had been sullenly indifferent at first, and secretly exultant at her sister's strait, began to get over her first anger, and missing the sunshine from the house prayed God to pardon her mad jealousy and restore her little sister to their yearning hearts. "And let Lord Chester love her if he will, for if he can turn so easily from one to another he is not worth the winning," she thought with bitter pride. She did not see him much in those days, but she knew that he was often with her father, and that he was eager to join in and forward every plan for finding Precious. "I am forgotten already; but let him go, he is nothing to me," she said to herself with jealous pride, trying to cheat her own aching heart. Suddenly her brother, Earle, who had been abroad, came home, and his grief and horror at the fate of Little Blue Eyes, as he had loved to call his younger sister, were most intense. Ethel could not resist one bitter fling. "Now that your idol is gone, perhaps you will be able to remember sometimes that you have another sister," she cried bitterly. Earle, who was dark and handsome and impetuous, like his father, turned on her a glance of displeasure. "Ethel, how can you speak so? Have I ever forgotten you? Did I not bring you from abroad more costly gifts than I brought Precious?" "Earle, forgive me; I was only jesting;" she cried quickly. But the pretense did not deceive the brother, who said to himself: "Ethel is as foolishly jealous as ever. What a pity!" But he put his arm around her and kissed the rosy cheek. "You are more beautiful than ever, dear, and I have heard it whispered that you will some day be--Lady Chester," he whispered. "Do not speak to me of Lord Chester. I hate him!" cried Ethel, and fled, sobbing wildly, to her own room. She might weep all she would over her false lover now, and they would only think it was grief for her sister. Her maid thought so when she came into the room with tearful eyes and said eagerly: "Oh, miss, if you'd take my advice you'd go to see a fortune-teller about Miss Precious. I know one in South Washington almost out in the country, and she tells very true." "Nonsense, Hetty; they have no knowledge of the future--no more than we have." "Oh, but, Miss Ethel, she told me wonderful things, and true as gospel, every word. I do believe as sure as my name's Hetty Wilkins that she could give you a clew to your sister's whereabouts. She's a clairvoyant, and charges a dollar for each person. Them clairvoyants always tells true, they say. Now, if you would like to slip out this afternoon for a walk, I'd go with you, for it's a lonesome neighborhood, and not safe for a lady like you alone."