"I heard of this murder, for one thing," said Allen slowly; "and for another, I wish to put an end to our engagement." Dora started. She remembered the prophecy of Mrs. Tice and of the dead man. It had come true sooner than she expected, and in a fashion she did not anticipate. Many things might have arisen to prevent their marriage, but if she and Allen were true to one another, she hoped to overleap all obstacles. But here was the man himself--the man who had vowed a thousand times that he could not live without her--and he proposed to part. She could hardly believe her ears; and from outraged pride tears sprang to her eyes. "I thought you loved me, Allen!" said she, then flung herself on the sofa and sobbed as though her heart would break. Dr. Scott rose suddenly, and stood looking down at her, his face working with passion. He would fain have taken her in his arms; he would have assured her of his love and undying fidelity. But between him and Dora a shadow was standing--the shadow of a dead man. "I do love you, Dora," said Allen, as soon as he could command his voice; "I shall always love you; but I can never make you my wife." "But why? What is your reason?" "I dare not tell you my reason; but you shall learn this much: Mr. Edermont told me something which parts us for ever." "What did he tell you?" "I dare not say." Dora rose slowly and looked steadily into his face. His eyes dropped before hers, and he would have turned away, but she compelled him to face her. "Allen, you know who killed Mr. Edermont." "No, no! As God is in heaven I do not!" he said vehemently. "I have my suspicions, but they count as nothing. Don't ask me anything, Dora, for I can tell you nothing." "At least tell me why you wish our engagement ended," said she, very pale. "I cannot," he groaned, and sank into a chair. "Then listen to me, Allen," she said in a firm voice. "Until you tell me the reason of this conduct I refuse to release you from the engagement. I love you; you say that you love me; so there is no reason why we should part. If you will not speak, others will; and I shall devote myself to finding out the truth. When I do find it," she added slowly, "then we may part. Until then"--her voice rose--"you are my affianced husband." Allen rose from his chair and walked slowly towards the window, where he stood looking out at the green lawn, the brilliant sunshine. In his then mood of self-torture and sorrow, the brightness of the day seemed a cruel contrast to his own dark thoughts. His life was over, his joys were at an end; a deadly trouble, greater than he could bear, had come upon him. Yet the flowers bloomed, the birds sang, the sunlight bathed stretches of green grass and clumps of stately trees in its golden rays, as in mockery of his puny grief and trivial ruin. The contrast struck him as so ironical that he burst into bitter laughter; but the mirth thus wrung from his breaking heart ended in a sigh of regret.