Jewel stood like one rooted to the floor gazing at her terrible work, for to all appearance life had fled from her hapless victim.

Flower lay like one dead upon the velvet carpet, her eyes half closed, her face ashen, and the missile with which Jewel had struck her, a small bronze toy, had glanced aside after doing its deadly work and fallen several feet away.

Jewel's dark face grew pale, too, and she shuddered with horror of the deed she had done.

In a minute she flung herself down upon her knees and felt for her sister's heart, but no pulse stirred the white breast of the prostrate girl.

"Before Heaven, I did not mean to do this!" Jewel muttered. "I only meant to stun her that she might not get away. I did not mean to kill her, but she is dead, and I am a terrible sinner in the sight of God!"

For a minute she felt shocked and remorseful, and longed to bring Flower back to life; but then that momentary mood was succeeded by the bitter jealous one of a little while ago, and a half-ashamed exultation crept into her heart.

"After all," whispered her evil genius, "it is better that it happened thus. She is out of your way now, and you can marry Laurie Meredith without fearing that she may turn up at any minute to take him from you. Rejoice, heart, that your rival is no more!"

After that she thought of nothing but the relief she would feel hereafter in knowing that Flower was really dead, and of hiding her dead body where no one could ever find it.

After a few minutes' reflection she thought of the old cellar under the house. Doubtless it was several feet under water now, owing to the snow of last week and the subsequent thaw.

"If I could throw her in there I should be safe!" she muttered.

She hardly knew how she accomplished it, but she dragged Flower's body down to the cellar and pushed it inside the door. It fell with a loud splash into the water, and Jewel banged the door to wildly, and rushed from the scene of her awful crime.

She did not know whether it was minutes or hours that she lay shuddering upon the sofa before Marie entered and looked around with a disappointed expression.

"I beg your pardon; I did not like to disturb you and the la—woman, mademoiselle, but it is quite time that you decided on what flowers you will wear this evening."

Jewel lifted her blanched face from the sofa, and said, carelessly:

"The flowers? use your own taste, Marie. It is always perfect. As for disturbing me—why, the woman went long ago, poor beggar. She had seen better days, she said, but she was a widow now with two children freezing in a garret. I gave her five dollars to buy food and coal, then I rang the bell for you to show her out. But you did not answer, so, as she was in a hurry to get back to her little ones, I showed her out myself."

Marie murmured some glib phrases of admiration for her young lady's condescension, then begged pardon for being in the conservatory and out of sound of the bell.

"I just ran down to see about the flowers for your corsage, but everything was so sweet and fragrant I couldn't tear myself away," she explained, with many nods and shrugs of head and shoulders.

"You are very excusable," Jewel replied, drawing a long breath of relief at hearing that Marie had been in the conservatory, out of reach of what had happened awhile ago.

She had feared at first that she would have to take the clever maid into her confidence and secure her aid in removing the body, but now she was very glad she had not done so.

"I accomplished it all by myself, although I ran a terrible risk in doing so. Ugh! what if Mrs. Wellings, or any of the servants, had come upon me when I was dragging her through the halls and down the stairs!" she shuddered to herself, with a passing wonder at her own hardihood.