the following morning,
which would be Thursday, Mrs. Propbridge took a stroll on Gulf Stream
City's famous boardwalk. It was rather a lonely stroll. She had no
particular objective. It was too early in the day for a full display of
vivid costumes among the bathers on the beach. She encountered no one
she knew.

Really, for a resort so extensively advertised, Gulf Stream City was not
a particularly exciting place. For lack of anything better to do she had
halted to view the contents of a shop window when an exclamation of
happy surprise from someone immediately behind her caused Mrs.
Propbridge to turn around.

Immediately it was her turn to register astonishment. A tall,
well-dressed, gray-haired man, a stranger to her, was taking possession
of her right hand and shaking it warmly.

"Why, my dear Mrs. Watrous," he was saying, "how do you do? Well, this
is an unexpected pleasure! When did you come down from Wilmington? And
who is with you? And how long are you going to stay? General Dunlap and
his daughter Claire--you know, the second daughter--and Mrs.
Gordon-Tracy and Freddy Urb will be here in a little while. They'll be
delighted to see you! Why, we'll have a reunion! Well, well, well!"

He had said all this with scarcely a pause for breath and without giving
her an opportunity to speak, as though surprise made him disregardful of
labial punctuation of his sentences. Indeed, Mrs. Propbridge did not
succeed in getting her hand free from his grasp until he had uttered
the final "well."

"You have the advantage of me," she said. "I do not know you. I am sure
I never saw you before."

At this his sudden shift from cordiality to a look half incredulous,
half embarrassed was almost comic.

"What?" he demanded, falling back a pace. "Surely this is Mrs. Beeman
Watrous of Wilmington? I can't be mistaken!"

"But you are mistaken," she insisted; "very much mistaken. My name is
not Watrous; my name is Propbridge."

"Madam," he cried, "I beg ten thousand pardons! Really, though, this is
one of the most remarkable things I ever saw in my life--one of the most
remarkable cases of resemblance, I mean. I am sure anyone would be
deceived by it; that is my apology. In my own behalf, madam, I must tell
you that you are an exact counterpart of someone I know--of Mrs. Beeman
Watrous, a very good friend of mine. Pardon me once more, but may I ask
if you are related to Mrs. Beeman Watrous? Her cousin perhaps? It isn't
humanly po