“I hope my foolish reports to Mr. Hopkins did no harm to Mr. Forbes,” Eliza was saying.  “I really had little to tell him of your conversation or movements.”

“You did no harm at all, for Mr. Forbes was elected,” replied Louise.  Then she said, carelessly: 

“Martha has sent me this pitcher of lemonade, and I don’t care for it.  Won’t you drink a glass, Eliza?”

“No, thank you,” she replied, shaking her head.  “I never drink lemonade.”

“Then have one of these sandwiches?”

“I’m not hungry, Miss Louise.”

Louise sighed.  Both the lemonade and the sandwiches had been “dosed” by Dr. Hoyt.  Then she picked up the box of bon-bons that was beside her.

“But you will eat some candy, dear.  Every girl likes candy.”

“I don’t seem to care for it,” said Eliza carelessly.

“Just one piece, to please me,” coaxed Louise, and selected a piece from the box with dainty care.  “Here, my dear; you’ll find this sort very nice.”

Eliza hesitated, but finally reached out her hand and took the bon-bon.  Louise lay back in her chair and closed her eyes, fearing their eagerness might betray her.  When after a time she opened them again Eliza was slowly rocking back and forth and chewing the confection.

Dr. Hoyt’s first suggestion had been best.  The potion had been prepared in several ways to tempt Eliza, but the candy had been the effectual bait.

Louise felt a glow of triumph, but managed to continue the conversation, relating in an amusing way the anxiety of the Elmhurst folks when the first returns seemed to indicate the election of Hopkins.

Eliza laughed once or twice, her head resting upon the back of her chair.  Then the words of Louise began to sound dreamy and indistinct in her ears.  The chair rocked with less regularity; soon it came to a stop, and Eliza was peacefully sleeping in its ample depths.

Louise now rose softly and rang her bell.  Footsteps approached, and a knock came upon the door.  She admitted Dr. Hoyt, Mr. Burke, and two servants.

The physician approached the sleeping girl and gently lifted the lids of her eyes.  Then he nodded with satisfaction.

“There was no suspicion on her part?  She made no struggle—­no attempt to evade unconsciousness?” he asked.

“None at all, sir,” replied Louise.  “She ate the bon-bon, and was asleep before she realized it.”

“Excellent!” said the doctor.  “We will now place her in her own room, upon her bed, while Mr. Burke and I drive over to her former home to complete our arrangements.”

“Won’t she waken?” asked Louise.

“Not until tomorrow morning, and when she does I hope for a complete restoration of her memory.”

Beth went with Dr. Hoyt to the Rogers farm, because she knew Mrs. Rogers.  It was necessary to break the news to the poor, blind woman gently, but Beth’s natural tact stood her in good stead.  She related the story of the search for Lucy, the discovery that one of the maids at Elmhurst resembled the missing girl, and the detective’s conclusion that Eliza Parsons was none other than Lucy Rogers, who was suffering from a peculiar mental aberration and had forgotten every detail of her former life.