"Oh, Ethel, why didn't you come sooner? Where is papa? Why didn't he come with you? I shall die, and never see him any more," sobbed Precious plaintively. "Die! Oh, no, my darling!" soothed Ethel, but she was startled by the words and the weakness and pallor of her sister. "Precious, what has changed you so? Have you been ill?" she exclaimed anxiously. "I am starving. I have never tasted food since the night I was kidnaped from the ball," answered Precious, in her faint, weak, hollow voice. Ethel could scarcely credit the words, for a small stand near the bed was heaped high with edibles, fruits, and wines. But Precious explained that she had determined to starve herself to death unless she was released from the power of the hated Lindsey Warwick. "Yesterday I fainted from weakness when I tried to walk across the floor, and those two wretches came in and poured wine down my throat while I was too weak to resist, and again this morning she forced wine between my lips, and made me live a little longer, or else I think I should be dead already," and here Precious paused and gasped, too weak to continue. "But you must eat and drink now, for I shall want you to go home with me," said Ethel tenderly, and she fed Precious like a little child, the poor girl taking food readily, for the pangs of hunger had been terrible to bear. She ate and drank with grateful eagerness, and Ethel watched her with moist, dark eyes, and thought: "Poor child, if I had stayed away a little longer she would have been dead; my little sister, that I have hated and envied in my evil moments, would never have crossed my path again, and I should not lose my lover as I shall surely do when once he sees Precious." Was she glad or sorry that she had come? She was glad! It was one of the moments when good triumphed over evil in the complex nature of Ethel Winans. "It was Heaven that sent me here to rescue Precious," she thought happily, and for awhile Lord Chester was forgotten while the sisters made mutual explanations. "So it was Lindsey Warwick, after all. The detectives suspected him at first, but he hoodwinked them very cleverly," said Ethel. "Oh, he is a fiend!" cried Precious shudderingly. "Then you could never accept him as a lover?" Ethel asked curiously. "Oh, never, never! He is very repulsive to me, with his keen little eyes, and his thick lips, and his perpetual smirk. If I ever have a lover I must have a grand, handsome one, as noble as papa, or perhaps like your lover, Ethel--I do not know his name, but I saw him at the ball with you, and I thought he was splendid. Well, when I have a real lover he must be like that, Ethel!" cried Precious innocently. A shadow gleamed over Ethel's dusky beauty, and she thought: "They are mutually attracted to each other. It is fate." But she said carelessly: