"Is it possible that you, Miss Carroll, are the guest who arrived to-day from New York?"
"Yes, but I did not dream of finding you here, Miss—Erroll. When I knocked at the door, I supposed this was Miss Harding's room. My head ached, and I wished to ask for some camphor."
"You were mistaken. Her room is on one side of yours, mine on the other, hence the mistake."
"I am sorry I disturbed you. I will withdraw now," said Cissy, in her coldest tone, moving toward the door.
But suddenly she was prevented from going by Miss Erroll falling madly at her feet.
"You shall not go yet—not till—not till—you promise not to betray me to your friends, not to tell them of my wicked past!" she exclaimed.
Cissy Carroll drew back her robe from contact with the kneeling suppliant. Her face was very pale, and her eyes flashed with scorn.
"Why should I spare you, woman? You did not spare me—nor him!" she answered, bitterly.
"That is true—oh, how true! But I have been bitterly punished for my sins—so bitterly that even those I have wronged might pity me. I sinned, but I have suffered!" moaned the kneeling woman, lifting despairing eyes to her accuser.
"The way of the transgressor is hard," answered Cissy, with the harshness of woman to woman.