nce of finding the mysterious woman who went
secretly to Underwood's rooms that night of the tragedy.

"He consulted only his own feelings," went on Annie. "He believes in
Howard, and he's going to defend him."

Alicia looked at her anxiously as if trying to read what might be in her
mind. Indifferently she went on:

"The papers say there was a quarrel about you, that you and Mr.
Underwood were too friendly. They implied that Howard was jealous. Is
this true?"

"It's all talk," cried Annie indignantly--"nothing but scandal--lies!
There's not a word of truth in it. Howard never had a jealous thought of
me--and as for me--why--I've always worshiped the ground he walked on.
Didn't he sacrifice everything for my sake? Didn't he quarrel with his
father for me? Didn't he marry me? Didn't he try to educate and make a
lady of me? My God!--do you suppose I'd give a man like that cause for
jealousy? What do the newspapers care? They print cruel statements that
cut into a woman's heart, without giving it a thought, without knowing
or caring whether it's true or not, as long as it interests and amuses
their readers. You--you don't really believe I'm the cause of his
misfortunes, do you?"

Alicia shook her head as she answered kindly:

"No, I don't. Believe me, I don't. You were right when you said that at
such a time as this one woman should stand by another. I'm going to
stand by you. Let me be your friend, let me help you." Extending her
hand, she said: "Will you?"

Annie grasped the proffered hand. It was the first that had been held
out to her in her present trouble. A lump rose in her throat. Much
affected, she said:

"It's the first kind word that----" She stopped and looked closely for a
moment at Alicia. Then she went on:

"It's the queerest thing, Mrs. Jeffries, but it keeps coming into my
mind. Howard told me that while he was at Underwood's that dreadful
night he thought he heard your voice. It must have been a dream, of
course, yet he thought he was sure of it. Your voice--that's queer,
isn't it? Why--what's the matter?"

Alicia had grown deathly pale and staggered against a chair. Annie ran
to her aid, thinking she was ill.

"It's nothing--nothing!" stammered Alicia, recovering herself.

Fearing she had said something to hurt her feelings, Annie said
sympathetically:

"I haven't said anything--anything out of the way--have I? If I have I'm
sorry--awfully sorry. I'm afraid--I--I've been very rude and yo