"No, dear, only a little deed of charity; only to slip out from madame's and go on foot to this address, see Hetty a few minutes, give her some money, and explain why I failed to come, then return on foot as you went, for it would not do to take the carriage into such a shabby place. The coachman would talk about it, then mamma would find out. After I'm married and gone you can confess it all to her if it lies uneasy on your conscience, little saint," added Ethel, pressing a little note from Hetty into her sister's tiny gloved hand. "I'll manage it," Precious promised, and stooping, pressed a light and tender kiss on Ethel's Judas lips. "Poor dear, you do look very sick. I'll send Laura back to sit by you while I'm gone. By-by," and Precious glided out, the soft _frou-frou_ of her silk carriage gown sounding in Ethel's ears like a thunder-peal of reproach. She half-lifted herself on the divan, her face ghastly, her white jeweled hand pressed hard against her heart, that was beating to suffocation. "Oh, Heaven, what have I done? But it was the price of my safety, the price of my happiness!" she moaned faintly, and when the maid came in presently she found Ethel weeping like one distraught. "Oh, what is it, dear Miss Winans? Are you worse?" exclaimed the maid anxiously. "N-n-no, but I'm so sorry I could not go with Precious this morning. Give me a sedative, Laura, for I'm so nervous I shall be in hysterics presently." "Must I send for the doctor, miss?" "Oh, no, no! I'll be better presently if I take that medicine. There, that will do. Leave me alone now, and I'll try to sleep." She shut her eyes and tried to lie still, but now and then she brushed her hand across her pale lips. "She kissed me good-by, and it burns my lips, it is like fire!" she muttered, almost deliriously. "Ah, Precious, Little Blue Eyes, will it always burn like this, or will Arthur's cold kiss cool the fire of remorse? Will I ever forget last night and to-day?" She lay still as death a little while, her face death-white, her eyes closed, but all alive within with wild emotion. She felt like a murderess. The sedative took no effect. She could not sleep. Time passed on and she lay with her brain on fire till the low chime of a French clock striking noon startled her like a clarion tone. Ethel sprang wildly from the couch and sought her writing-desk. With a shaking hand she wrote a few lines, enveloped and sealed the note, then wrote on the back her sister's name. Laura entered in answer to the tinkle of the little bell. "You are better, Miss Winans?" "Oh, yes, and I want the carriage to come back for me. Go, my good girl, as fast as you can to Madame La Mode's with this note for my sister. Give it into her own hands, and the faster you do my errand, Laura, the richer shall be your reward." "I'll run every step of the way, miss," promised the girl, taking the letter, and darting out. Ethel had written only this: