After several moments of self-contained sobbing Miss Prudence raised her head.  “I’ve never told any one, but I feel as if I wanted to tell you.  It is so long that it makes me feel old to speak of it.  It is twenty years ago since it happened.  I had a friend that I love as girls love the man they have chosen to marry; father admired him, and said he was glad to leave me with such a protector.  Mother had been dead about a year and father was dying with consumption; they had no one to leave me with excepting this friend; he was older than I, years older, but I admired him all the more for that.  Father had perfect trust in him.  I think the trouble hastened father’s death.  He had a position of trust—­a great deal of money passed through his hands.  Like every girl I liked diamonds and he satisfied me with them; father used to look grave and say:  ‘Prudie, your mother didn’t care for such things.’  But I cared for mine.  I had more jewels than any of my friends; and he used to promise that I should have everything I asked for.  But I did not want anything if I might have him.  My wedding dress was made—­our wedding tour was all planned:  we were to come home to his beautiful house and father was to be with us.  Father and I were so contented over our plans; he seemed just like himself that last evening that we laughed and talked.  But he—­my friend was troubled and left early; when he went away he caught me in his arms and held me.  ‘God bless you, bless you’ he said, and then he said, ‘May he forgive me!’ I could not sleep that night, the words sounded in my ears.  In the morning I unburdened myself to father, I always told him everything, and he was as frightened as I. Before two days we knew all.  He had taken—­money—­that was not his own, thousands of dollars, and he was tried and sentenced.  I sent them all my diamonds and everything that would bring money, but that was only a little of the whole.  They sent him—­to state-prison, to hard labor, for a term of five years.  Father died soon after and I had not any one nearer than an aunt or cousin.  I thought my heart broke with the shame and dishonor.  I have lived in many places since.  I have money enough to do as I like—­because I do not like to do very much, perhaps.  But I can’t forget.  I can’t forget the shame.  And I trusted him so!  I believed in him.  He had buried a young wife years ago, and was old and wise and good!  When I see diamonds they burn into me like live coals.  I would have given up my property and worked for my living, but father made me bind myself with a solemn promise that I would not do it.  But I have sought out many that he wronged, and given them all my interest but the sum I compelled myself to live on.  I have educated two or three orphans, and I help every month several widows and one or two helpless people who suffered through him.  Father would be glad of that, if he knew how comfortably I can live on a limited income.  I have made my will, remembering a number of people, and if they die before I do, I shall keep trace of their children.  I do all I can; I would, rather give all my money up, but it is my father’s money until I die.”