ost
fascinating little creature imaginable, and the plainest, if you only
looked at her features! It must have been a jolly sight harder to
represent her, than if she'd been a merely beautiful woman, like Anne.
She's an uncommon type here in England, but not on the Continent. I
don't suppose it would be difficult to find half a dozen who would
answer to the same description,--if one only knew where to look for
'em."

"It wasn't the resemblance of a type,--eyes and hair and that
sort of thing,"--I said slowly; "the voice, the manner, the soul;
why--_she_--knew me, recognized me even with my beard--spoke of
Mary--"

"She must have been an astonishingly clever woman, poor soul! And one
who knew a lot more about Anne than Anne and her father know of her.
Well, you'd soon be able to exchange notes with Pendennis himself, and
perhaps you'll hit on a solution of the mystery between you. What's
that?"

I had pulled out the miniature and now handed it to him. He examined it
intently under the bright light of the little acetylene lamp inside the
brougham.

"This is another portrait of her? You're right,--there's a marvellous
likeness. I'd have sworn it was Anne, though the hair is different
now. It was cut short in her illness,--Anne's illness, I mean, of
course,--and now it's a regular touzle of curls. Here, put it up. I
wouldn't say anything about it to Anne, if I were you,--not at present."

The carriage stopped, and as I stumbled out and along the flagged way,
the front door was flung open, and in a blaze of light I saw Mary, and,
a little behind her,--Anne herself.

I'm afraid I was very rude to Mary in that first confused moment of
meetings and greetings. I think I gave her a perfunctory kiss in
passing, but it was Anne on whom my eyes were fixed,--Anne who--wonder
of wonders--was in my arms the next moment. What did it matter to us
that there were others standing around? She was alive, and she loved me
as I loved her; I read that in her eyes as they met mine; and nothing
else in the world was of any consequence.

"You went back to Russia in search of me! I was quite sure of it in my
mind, though Mary declared you were off on another special correspondent
affair for Lord Southbourne, and he said the same; he's rather a nice
man, isn't he, and Lady Southbourne's a dear! But I knew somehow he
wasn't speaking the truth. And you've been in the wars, you poor boy!
Why, your hair is as gray as father's; and how _did_ yo