"Thank you, Sid. Yes, I _had_ forgotten your extreme age. I fell in love with--him. I am not ashamed to admit it. I had never known anyone like him before. And I thought--yes, that--There was another girl there, Sylvia Thorn, from Atlanta. She was very pretty and she and Dugald were great pals and one day Aunt Edith told me she hoped they would marry, that it would be a very nice match for Dugald, a relief to his family, that he needed that type of girl to cure him of his queer ways. I remember just what she said. 'You understand, my dear, _you_ have lived with genius yourself.' It wasn't exactly _what_ she said, it was the way she said it, as though she thought I would know because _I_ lived entirely out of Dugald Allan's class. It hurt cruelly. It made me sensitive and made me see little things between Dugald--and Sylvia. And it made me see myself as someone quite unworthy of--Dugald. I found some pretext to go home. I thought by running away from it all I could forget. Dugald wrote a few times--then that letter telling me that he was going on a six months' painting cruise in the South Seas with Sylvia Thorn and her father and mother and wanted to run up to Middletown to tell me something before he went. I wrote back that he must not come that I--could not--see him. That's all." Sidney was listening with clasped hands, a color on her cheeks that matched Trude's, stars in her eyes. With magic swiftness her romantic soul was piecing together a beautiful picture. "Why, that _can't_ be all! How could you have written to him like that! And he wasn't in love with that Sylvia, was he?" Trude's eyes softened. "N--no. I know now. He told me--today. Sylvia was engaged at the time to his best friend, but they wanted it kept secret for awhile. Dugald thought I knew." "Then--then--" cried Sidney. But, somehow, she could not ask Trude what had happened during the afternoon, something new in Trude's dear eyes plainly warned her that just now all that was too much her own to be shared with anyone. Instead she threw her arms around Trude and hugged her violently. "Oh, Trude, how I love you! And it's so good to be with you. Out there--on the boat--I kept thinking of you and how safe I always feel with you--how I _need_ you! I don't ever want to feel grown-up again and independent, I don't care _how_ old I am--" Trude kissed the tousled head. "You've said just what I wanted to hear, dear," she answered softly. "And that you--need me!"