‘Doesn’t she, Gerald?’ Gerald held up his hands. It moved a trifle, stepping back and lifting an arm to rub the sleeve against the glass. The old lady clearly read his state of mind, for the apparently irrepressible dimple peeped out. ” She looked at him; his face, downcast and in profile, was handsome and strong. This was the bitterest hour he had ever known. His back was no sooner turned, than she slipped this casket into the box. I wonder whether you would mind, Lady Ferringhall,” he went on, with a sudden glance at her, “if I tell you that you yourself remind me a great deal more of what she was like then, except of course that your complexion and colouring are altogether different.
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