“Oh, why did I not die when I found that he was false, and my dream of love over? Why linger on when the charm is gone from life, and I must live on, shamed, humiliated, by the thought that Jessie Stirling’s proud, rich lover stooped from the height where he should dwell to pluck a wayside flower, then trample it beneath his feet? Oh, it is torture to think he held me so lightly!” CHAPTER XIII. IN THE SPIDER’S WEB. She wondered that she did not die of her shame and despair, so keen was her pain and humiliation, but the day wore to sunset and she was still alive, although the face of the whole world had changed to her in twenty-four hours, so that the blue of the sky and the gold of the sun no longer seemed fair, and the birdsongs in the trees outside had changed to notes of sadness that fell coldly on her heart. There came to her a sharp memory of the little song she had once loved, the one that had lingered on her lips the day she rode so blithely away on Rex to meet her fate in the beautiful dark blue eyes that had been so false and fair: “Honey-flowers to the honey-comb, And the honey-bees from home. “A honey-comb and a honey-flower And the bee shall have his hour. “A honeyed heart for the honey-comb And the honey-bee flies home. “A heavy heart in the honey-flower And the bee has had his hour.” “I am going to let you sit in this easy-chair by the window to watch the beautiful July sunset, and Mr. Hermann wants to come in and see you,” Miss Tuttle said, placing the chair ready and dressing her patient in a soft white wrapper. But it was Jessie Stirling who pushed open the door and tripped in, first taking advantage of its being unlocked. “Poor dear, how changed you look, how pale, how ill! It was a terrible shock to you to find out how Chester Olyphant had deceived you, was it not?” she twittered, loquaciously, coolly taking a chair in front of Leola, and adding: “You may well fancy it was a shock to me, too, to find him down here flirting with you when I thought him safe on a yacht thousands of miles away. Did Miss Tuttle tell you he has gone away in a huff at being found out, and without leaving any word for me? Yes, he has gone, and at first I vowed I never would forgive him his flirtation with you, but--well, when I go back to New York perhaps I will relent, after he has coaxed long enough. We really are very fond of each other, you know, though Chester cannot help flirting any more than he can help breathing. I shall never let him know how hard you took it, for that would flatter his vanity too much!” His vanity, dear heaven! and she had believed he loved her, thought Leola, with silent shame and despair. She could not bear to look at Jessie, his jubilant betrothed, sitting there in her pretty fashionable gown and fluffy flaxen locks in a wavy aureole over her white brow. She wished secretly that the girl would go away and leave her alone with her wounded heart.