But the thick shrubberies that dotted the grounds hid from sight the figure of the jealous lover running madly from the scene of the crime he had committed in the height of unreasoning passion. Suddenly Letty Green grew very pale, and clutched at Cullen for actual support, whispering in awestruck tones: “Cullen, I’m that nervous I can hardly stand on my feet! I--I--have such an awful sus-suspicion! Suppose that pretty young girl has shot herself in the arbor because her lover’s run away?” “Let us go and see,” he replied, pulling her hand through his arm, for she was really trembling very much. Thus, arm in arm, he very loverlike, she pretending to pull away from him, and protesting that she daren’t look, they proceeded to the arbor, where they found Annette lying like one dead, outstretched on the ground, with a thin stream of blood pouring from her breast, staining her light silk gown and creamy laces with a gory crimson. “I said so--I told you so! She’s gone and killed herself!” whimpered Letty, clinging to him for sympathy, the tears welling into her keen black eyes. “She’s dead, sure enough, I’m afraid,” returned Cullen, jumping to conclusions without examination. Then he cast a glance upon the ground, adding: “But I don’t see the weapon as she done it with.” They began to search about, but uselessly. It could not be discovered; and the man said then, pityingly: “She didn’t do it herself; some one else fired that shot. But who could have had the heart to hurt that pretty, young girl?” “Yes--who could?” echoed Letty, with a sob; and she began to stroke Annette’s little hands, as they lay limply by her sides. Then she gave a quick start of surprise. “Why, her dear little hands are warm yet, and, oh, see--see, Cullen! she ain’t quite dead, for her heart beats a little. Just feel,” and she moved his hand over the girl’s side. “Run, run,” she added, “for a doctor--quick! and I’ll stay till you come back!” Nothing loath, Cullen set off at full speed, and Letty remained crouching beside the unconscious girl, stroking her hands, her hair, and the soft folds of her shimmering silk gown with soft, pitying touches. But suddenly a covetous look gleamed in her eyes, and her hand slid furtively along the silken folds till it was lost to sight. Letty had remembered the little netted purse from which Annette had generously given her a silver piece. She withdrew her hand furtively, having captured a purse and a letter. The letter, she saw, was addressed to Dallas Bain. Slipping both into her pocket, Letty murmured: “Poor thing! That’s why she wanted his address so bad, to send him this letter. Well, I’ll find it out, if I can, and mail it to him. I’ll do her that good turn, poor, pretty little girl! though I don’t believe that my mistress would like it if she knew, for I fancy she is sweet on Mr. Bain herself.”