Eet vas de honor ven he ask me dat, an' now I be good voman because a good man lofes me.

Holy Mother! eet vill be easy now dat he vanted to marry me." Impulsively Beth Norvell, her own eyes moist, held the other, sobbing like a child within the clasp of sympathetic arms.

There was instantly formed between them a new bond, a new feeling of awakened womanhood.
Yet, even as her fingers continued to stroke the dishevelled hair softly, there flashed across her mind a recurring memory of her purpose, the necessity for immediate action.

Not for an instant longer did she doubt the complete honesty of the other's frank avowal, or question the propriety of requesting her aid in thwarting Farnham.

She held the slight, quivering figure back, so that she might gaze into the uplifted, questioning face.
"Mercedes, yes, yes, I understand it all," she cried eagerly.