The time passed slowly enough to the impatient Vinton while the boy-of-all-work was gone on his mission to Mrs. Bowers. He paced up and down impatiently, now and then casting surly looks of hatred and revenge upon the honest farmer who had dared to defy him and protect his trembling victim.

Mrs. Thorn, seeing that Queenie was better and did not need her attention, busied herself in setting the neglected breakfast upon the table. She put on the smoking coffee, the hot corn-cakes, the fried bacon and eggs, the fresh butter and milk, and invited her visitors to partake of the homely fare.

Leon Vinton declined the invitation by a surly nod, but Queenie, who had been watching her movements eagerly, readily signified her consent.

"I am very hungry," she declared, "for owing to the wickedness of yonder man, I have not tasted food for several days."

"Oh, my poor, demented little sister," exclaimed the hypocritical Vinton, "would to God your reason might be restored!"

Queenie only cast a look of scorn upon him as she took her place at the breakfast-table. Her heart was infused with fresh courage owing to the noble conduct of the farmer and his wife in repelling the persecutions of Leon Vinton.

She determined to get the farmer to go into town for her father, and she resolved that these kind people should be most liberally rewarded for the resolute course by which they had secured her happiness. So inspired was she by this brilliant hope, and so strengthened by the warm coffee, that a faint flush came into her cheek, and her blue eyes sparkled with excitement and animation.

"Your breakfast has set you up quite a bit, ma'am," exclaimed Mrs. Thorn, admiringly. "You don't hardly look like the same woman we took up for dead in the road."

"Your kindness has put new life in me, madam," answered Queenie, gratefully. "It is the hope of escape from this man that fills me with joy and lights up my face with gladness."

"Poor dear!" exclaimed the woman, turning a look of scorn on Vinton as he still moodily paced the floor.

"Ah, madam," exclaimed he, catching that look, "in a little while, when my sister arrives and corroborates my story, you will see how much you have wronged me in giving credence to the senseless ravings of this poor lunatic."

Even as he spoke there was a stir and a bustle at the door. The farmer hastened to open it, and Mrs. Bowers, elegantly dressed and visibly excited, rushed in. Leon Vinton sprang to meet her.

"Oh, my dear sister!" he exclaimed, "I have found our poor little one!"

Mrs. Bowers took the cue at once.

"Oh, brother!" she cried, theatrically, "you fill me with joy! What tortures, what agonies I have endured in the fear that she was dead!"

She rolled her eyes around the room, and seeing Queenie sitting near the fire, ran up and vigorously embraced her.

"Oh, my poor, unhappy darling," she cried, "how could you grieve your poor old sister so?"

Queenie pushed her off frantically like the mad creature they accused her of being.

"You are not my sister," she cried, angrily. "Go away Mrs. Bowers. You cannot impose on these good people with your shameless lies! They would not believe Leon Vinton and they will not believe you. They are friends to me, and they will help me back to my husband."

Mrs. Bowers threw up her hands and looked at her coadjutor in villainy sadly.

"You see she is still as mad as a March hare," he answered, "and would you believe it, Alice, dear, our little sister has so imposed on these good people with her cunning insanity, that they actually believe her stories, and look upon me, her devoted brother, as a perjured villain seeking her destruction. They will not even permit me to remove my poor, demented sister home without proof of my assertion."

Mrs. Bowers looked around at the farmer and his wife with an air of indulgent pity.

"Oh, my good people, is it possible that you have been so weak as to let this cunning maniac deceive you? But no wonder—for insanity has baffled wiser heads than yours or mine. It is quite natural she should deceive you, as I do not suppose you ever saw a crazy person before. But now let me assure you that my brother has told you the simple truth. This is our own sister, and she has been a year insane. She escaped from us this morning before daylight, and he has been seeking her everywhere. I have come in the carriage, and I suppose you will not now raise any further objection to our removing her to her home."

"I will not go with you!" exclaimed Queenie, filled with terror lest the woman's specious acting should deceive the simple country people. "Every word you have uttered is a base falsehood! I am nothing to either of you—nothing! Go away and leave me in peace!"

In her wild excitement she sprang up and shook her hands violently at Mrs. Bowers. Her loose, disheveled hair, her flashing eyes, her waving hands made her look like a wild creature. Mrs. Bowers pointed at her triumphantly.

"You see for yourselves that she is mad," she said. "She is going off into one of her violent and dangerous fits, and she is just as apt as not to catch up a knife from the table there and kill one of you. Oh, for God's sake, brother, take her and put her in the carriage!"

Leon Vinton advanced to do her bidding, but Queenie fought him off like a young lioness at bay.

"Oh, good people!" she cried, "help me, for Heaven's sake! Do not suffer this villain to take me!"

"I have given you full proof now that this is my sister," exclaimed Leon Vinton to the farmer. "I warn you if you interfere with me further it will be at your peril!"

The farmer and his wife had been completely deceived by the spirited and natural acting of Mrs. Bowers. They began to believe that they had indeed been deceived into believing the artful ravings of a violent maniac.

Therefore, when Queenie called on them for help they only stood aloof, regarding her frightened, excited aspect with newly-awakened fear.

"Ha! so you are now convinced of the truth," exclaimed Leon Vinton, triumphantly, seeing that they made no effort to molest him.

"Yes, sir, we are," said the farmer, in a conciliatory tone; "and I wish to make my apology to you for the trouble I've put you to. The young girl's acting was very nat'ral, but I see now that you told the truth about her."

"I told you so, father!" exclaimed Jennie, triumphantly.

"Tut, tut, Jen—hold your tongue, you impudent girl!" exclaimed Mrs. Thorn, sharply.

Queenie had dropped into a chair at the farmer's renunciation of her claims, and, hiding her face in her hands, burst into a passionate fit of weeping. Mrs. Bowers stood by her making a pretended effort at consoling her, but her pretended brother paid no heed to the wretched girl. He looked at Jennie's bright, pretty face, and then turned to her father.

"I think you said your daughter was out of a place, at present," he said, blandly. "Do you wish to secure another one for her?"

"Yes, we do," was the ready answer. "We have to put her out to service, for we cannot afford to keep her at home. She must earn her clothes and a bit more to help us along at home."

"I think my sister needs just such a girl about the house, to help her with the housekeeping," said Leon Vinton; and, turning to Mrs. Bowers, he said: "Do you think Miss Jennie would suit you?"

The woman stared at him in surprise for a moment, but he gave her a significant glance, and she answered with apparent frankness:

"Yes, I think I should like to have her very much."

"Very well, then," and, turning to the farmer he inquired if his sister could have Jennie, naming a liberal, but not too large compensation, for fear of exciting suspicion. He did not ask the girl, herself, for he had already read her consent in her beaming eyes. She was perfectly fascinated by the handsome stranger, and was ready to go anywhere that she might daily see him and hear his voice.

Before the farmer could speak, Queenie sprang to his side, and laid her delicate white hand, all sparkling with jewels, on his coarse sleeve, lifting her blue eyes pleadingly to his face.

"Oh! sir," she said, "you think me mad, but for Heaven's sake be warned by me! Do not suffer your pretty, simple girl to stray into the snare this man and woman are setting for her. If you give your consent you will rue it in dust and ashes, when you see her innocence betrayed and her virtue lost."

Leon Vinton glared at her fiercely as the farmer hesitated.

"Come, decide, at once," he said. "The carriage is waiting, and she can accompany us if you are willing. Of course you need pay no attention to the ravings of that poor maniac."

Mr. Thorn looked at his daughter. Her face was bright with smiles, for the artful villain, with his tender glances, had made her believe that he was deeply enamored of her charms.

"Do you want to go, Jennie?" he asked, doubtfully.

"Oh, yes, father, if you'll let me," she said.

"She may go for a month, then, and if she don't like the place she may come home again," said the farmer.

Queenie said no more. She saw that her enemies had triumphed over her this time, and her heart was almost broken. She made an ineffectual struggle to escape through the door, but was captured and borne struggling to the carriage, followed by her pretended sister and the pretty Jennie, who was falling so unconsciously into the pit spread for her unwary feet.