roggy's answer.

And Priscilla breathed a long sigh of contentment. She knew that there
was no need to explain herself to this, her oldest friend.

She laid her cheek comfortably against the great dog's ear.

"No, Romeo," she murmured. "Your missis isn't going to be thrown at any
man's head if she knows it. But it's a difficult world, old boy; almost
an impossible world, I sometimes think. Froggy, I know you can be
sentimental when you try. What should you do if you fell in love with a
total stranger without ever knowing his name? Should you have the
fidelity to live in single blessedness all your life for the sake of
your hero?"

Froggy looked a little startled at the question, lightly as it was put.
She felt that it was scarcely a problem that could be settled offhand.
And yet something in Priscilla's manner seemed to indicate that she
wanted a prompt reply.

"It is a little difficult to say, dear," she said, after brief
reflection. "I can understand that one might be strongly attracted
towards a stranger, but I should think it scarcely possible that one
could go so far as to fall in love."

Priscilla uttered a faint, rueful laugh.

"Perhaps you couldn't, Froggy," she admitted. "But you know there is
such a thing as loving at first sight. Some people go so far as to say
that all true love begins that way."

She rose quietly and went to her friend's side.

"Oh, Froggy, it's very difficult to be true to your inner self when you
stand quite alone," she said, "and every one else is thinking what a
fool you are!" The words had an unwonted ring of passion in them, and,
having uttered them, she knelt down by Froggy's side, and hid her face
against the ample shoulder. "And I sometimes think I'm a fool myself,"
she ended, in muffled accents.

Froggy's arms closed instantly and protectingly around her.

"My darling, who is it, then?" whispered her motherly voice.

Priscilla did not at once reply. It was a difficult confidence to make.
At last, haltingly, words came:

"It was years ago--that summer we went to New York, Dad and I. He was
from the South, so I heard afterwards. He stayed at the same hotel with
us, one of those quiet, unobtrusive, big men--not big physically,
but--you understand. I might not have noticed him--I don't know--but one
day a man in the street threw down a flaming match just as I was coming
out of the hotel. I had on a muslin dress, and it caught fire. Of
course, it blazed in a moment, and