"Ah, no, no, Marie, she could not do that, and she my half-sister!" shuddered Flower.
"And your rival," added the French maid, knowingly. "See, mademoiselle, you will come into the anteroom. I will open the back window which looks down on a brick-paved yard. There is no one near. Wait, I will bring the little box very careful, afraid of my life. I toss it from the window. See!"
The box, only half as long as her hand, a simple, innocent-looking thing, was hurled quickly from the window. There was the swift sound of a crash on the pavement, followed by a loud explosion. Marie shut down the window with a bang, and caught the trembling figure in her arms.
"You understand, ma'amselle, that your rival is fully determined to sweep you from her path," she said, warningly. "If you had struck your little foot sharply against that box in walking, or drawn forward the chair over it, there must have been an explosion that would have ended both your life and mine!"
Flower shuddered and hid her pallid face in her hands, wondering at the wickedness of her half-sister.
"But I was watching very close," Maria continued, complacently. "This is twice I've foiled that wicked woman. You must look to yourself, my gentle-hearted lady, for terrible danger lurks near you. She fears and hates you, and she will keep on trying to kill you. If you take my advice you will deliver her up to the authorities."
"Oh, how can I do that? She is my sister! Besides, he loves her, Marie!" Flower sighed.
"And shows vair bad taste, in my opinion, ma'amselle," the maid replied, candidly, and added, "and you show vair poor judgment in letting her go free."