THE VALLEY RANCHE.
Sybil Chase was sitting in the apartments which she had taken on leaving Mr. Waring's residence.
Her dress, always simple and elegant, was even more studied and elaborately delicate than usual; the face wore its lightest, fairest look, and one seeing her as she sat gazing down the street, evidently in momentary expectation of some person not yet in sight, would have thought that no anxiety or stern thought had ever found a resting-place in her bosom.
That for which she had toiled and plotted, treading ruthlessly over the hearts and happiness of all who stood in her way, had been gained—in one week she would be the wife of Edward Laurence.
Sybil was expecting him then; he spent the greater portion of each day in her society, and the influence which she had gained seemed constantly to increase.
While she waited there was a low knock at the door. Sybil started up with a beautiful smile of welcome, which changed to a look of surprise when the door opened and only a servant appeared, saying:
"There's a gentleman, ma'am, who wants to see you."
"I am engaged. I told you to admit no one but Mr. Laurence."
"I know it, but he would have me come up; he says he won't keep you a moment."
"Be quick, then," she answered, impatiently.