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And suddenly it seemed that death itself shuddered in her soul Too late! It was too late She had killed his love That Jorth blood in her--that poisonous hate--had chosen the only way to strike this noble Isbel to the heart Basely, with an abandonly perjured her soul with a vile lie She writhed, she shook under the whip of this inconceivable fact Lost! Lost! She wailed her ht as well be what she had made Jean Isbel think she was If she had been shaht And if she would have given her soul for his kisses, she noould have killed herself to earn back his respect Jean Isbel had given her at sight the deference that she had unconsciously craved, and the love that would have been her salvation What a horrible mistake she had made of her life! Not her mother's blood, but her father's--the Jorth blood--had been her ruin

Again Ellen fell upon the soft pine-needle ony that could not bear the sense of light All she had suffered was as nothing to this To have awakened to a splendid and uplifting love for a ht for her nae for the dishonor she had avowed--to have lost his love and as infinitely nominy--his faith in her purity--this broke her heart