them. I
never go to a dance but what I fall in love with at least two of my
partners, and my undying affection for both just lasts the evening
out. Imagination is strongly developed in some people--when they're
young."

"No, be serious."

Alice gazed at the other curiously. Then--

"Out with it, Prue. What is it that's troubling you? Your face is
significant of some dire tragedy."

"How long have you been engaged to Robb Chillingwood?"

"Nearly six months. Why?"

"And you've never thought of any other man?"

Alice shook her head. For once she was quite serious.

"Couldn't look at another man. Robb hasn't got two cents to his name,
but I'm going to marry him or--or--die an old maid."

For a moment the expression of Prudence's face relaxed, but a moment
later it set itself into more stern lines than ever.

"Alice, you were right in what you said about George," she went on
slowly. "I can hardly believe it myself yet. Leslie Grey has only been
dead eight months, and yet here I am thinking all day long of another
man. I believe I am utterly heartless--worthless."

"Well?"

"Well, it's just this. I am not worth an honest man's love. I used to
think I worshipped the ground poor Leslie walked on--I'm sure I loved
him to distraction," the girl went on passionately. "Very well;
suppose George asked me to marry him and I consented. In all
probability, in the light of what has gone before, I should be tired
of him in a year, and then--and then----"

"You're talking nonsense now, Prue," said Alice. She was alarmed at
the other's tone. The beautiful face of her friend was quite pale, and
sharp lines were drawn about the mouth.

"I'm not talking nonsense," the other went on in a tense, bitter tone.
"What I say is true. In less than eight months I have forgotten the
dead. I have done nothing to discover the murderer who robbed me of a
husband and lover. I have simply forgotten--forgotten him. Put
yourself in my place--put your Robb in Leslie's place. What would you
have done?"

Alice thought seriously before she answered.

"I should never have rested until I had avenged his death," she said
at last, and a hard glitter shone in her eyes. Then a moment after she
smiled. "But it is different. I don't think you really loved Leslie
Grey. You merely thought you did."

"That only makes it worse," the other retorted. Prudence's face was
alight with inflexible resolve. "My debt to the dead must be paid.
I see it now in