“Well, _I_ never knew anything like it, I'll say that,” agreed Lorna. “When you think of the trouble she has gone to, and how she has kept it up. Gay, do you think she has any idea we don't believe her?” “Of course not! But isn't it the strangest thing for anybody to do?” “I don't know,” said Lorna thoughtfully. “I've been thinking about it a lot since I first had a suspicion, and it is n't really so strange. You know what Henrietta is like. She loves to shine. She hates to play second fiddle. Do you remember when we first heard of her dear Billy?” “When she was at Spirit Lake, where she said she met him. She wrote about the engagement from there.” “Yes,” said Lorna; “and do you remember what was going on here in Riverbank just before she went on vacation?” “I don't remember.” “Don't tell me you don't remember how Carter Bruce was rushing you then!” scoffed Lorna. “I remember perfectly well that Henrietta and I agreed you and Carter would be engaged before the summer ended.” “Oh, Carter Bruce!” admitted Gay. “Of course, he was fussing around. He is always fussing around. Or was.” “Yes, and we thought he was going to steal you, Gay. Well--that's the answer!” “You mean--” “Of course! Henrietta just couldn't stand having you engaged when she was not. So she invented Billy Vane while she was at Spirit Lake, and told us he had gone out to Colorado, where he would be out of the way.” “But who writes her the letters from Colorado?” “How do I know? She may have a brother out there. That is easy. She would have dear Bill go wherever there was some one who could write her a letter now and then. And Henrietta does the rest. It is n't so impossible when you think of it that way, is it? After she had invented dear Bill it was natural enough that she should keep him alive and interested, when we were so interested.” “Lorna, it is the greatest thing I ever heard of!” exclaimed Gay. “And I think you are a wizard to discover the truth.” “No, I'm not,” said Lorna. “Just think back, Gay. The strange thing is that we did not hit on it sooner. Think! Can't you remember a hundred things that should have made us suspicous?” “Yes,” Gay admitted. “Especially the presents, and the way she borrows just before the presents come.” “And never letting us see a single letter, and always moving away when we come near her when she is reading them to us, and never getting another photograph from Billy '--and a thousand things.” “Yes,” said Gay again; and then, “Are you going to do anything about it?” “Do? No, why should I? If she enjoys it I'm sure we do. Only--we must not lend her any more, if we can help it. There's no reason why we should lend her our hard-earned money to buy presents for herself with.” Gay giggled. “How much does she owe you now?” she asked. “Almost two hundred.” “And me over one hundred and fifty! Is n't it rich?” “It's peachy!”