Ethel felt a strange thrill of repulsion run over her frame, and cresting her head with a haughty movement unbefitting her convent garb she exclaimed sternly: "Your jest is ill-timed, sir!" A low laugh answered her--low and menacing. Somehow the blood ran coldly through her veins at the sound. Shuddering, she was turning away when his hand fell lightly on her arm, staying her steps. "Let me speak to you a moment in the conservatory, Miss Winans. I come to you from Hetty Wilkins," he said coolly. She dared not hesitate. Trembling with fear she followed him to a quiet place, where there could not possibly be any listeners. They sat down side by side, and he whispered: "When Hetty Wilkins came to you for a thousand dollars, I sent her. I hold the secret of your presence in the burning house, and the secret of your cruel abandonment of your sister to a terrible fate." "It is not true. It was an accident," she muttered hoarsely; then with a searching glance: "Perhaps you are Lindsey Warwick." "No matter what my name is, I am one who will betray your guilty secret unless you pay my price for keeping it. You have paid Hetty, now you must pay me. I do not believe you will shrink from the price of your safety, for it is only that you will betray into my hands to-morrow the beautiful sister that you hate!" CHAPTER XXXIII. "AH! YOUR BLUSH BETRAYS YOU!" "All those who journey, soon or late, Must pass within the garden's gate; Must kneel alone in darkness there, And battle with some fierce despair. All paths that have been, or shall be, Pass somewhere through Gethsemane." --ELLA WHEELER WILCOX. Mrs. Winans went with her husband to the capitol next morning, leaving her two daughters preparing for a trip to the dressmaker. But when the iron-gray horses were champing their bits impatiently in the street, and the coachman waiting on the box, Ethel sent her new maid Laura to ask Precious to come to her dressing-room. She found her sister lying languidly on a silken divan, scarcely able to speak, and the maid explained: "Miss Winans had a fainting spell when she was dressing." "I shall be better after awhile. It is only the over-fatigue of last night. But I could not endure the ordeal of Madame La Mode this morning. You will have to go alone, Precious," murmured Ethel faintly, and she did indeed look ill and weak. Perhaps the treachery she was planning did not come easy. "Perhaps we can postpone it till to-morrow," Precious answered. "No, for madame is so very busy, and would be seriously put out if we do not go to her this morning. Besides, she can finish that waist of yours to-day. If you are afraid to go alone in the carriage, take Norah." "Norah is quite sick this morning, Ethel, but I am not afraid of anything. I can go alone." "That is right, for--oh, Precious, I want a little favor from you!" The maid had retired and closed the door. Ethel beckoned her sister nearer.