ention. Quite
unconsciously, Miss Jillgall had revealed to me a danger which
neither the Minister nor I had discovered, though it had conspicuously
threatened us both on the wall of the study. The act of mad destruction
which, if I had possessed the means of safely interfering, I should
certainly have endeavored to prevent, now assumed a new and startling
aspect. If Mrs. Tenbruggen really had some motive of her own for
endeavoring to identify the adopted child, the preservation of the
picture must have led her straight to the end in view. The most casual
opportunity of comparing Helena with the portrait of Mrs. Gracedieu
would have revealed the likeness between mother and daughter--and, that
result attained, the identification of Eunice with the infant whom the
"Miss Chance" of those days had brought to the prison must inevitably
have followed. It was perhaps natural that Mr. Gracedieu's infatuated
devotion to the memory of his wife should have blinded him to the
betrayal of Helena's parentage, which met his eyes every time he entered
his study. But that I should have been too stupid to discover what he
had failed to see, was a wound dealt to my self-esteem which I was vain
enough to feel acutely.

Mrs. Tenbruggen's voice, cheery and humorous, broke in on my
reflections, with an odd question:

"Mr. Governor, do you ever condescend to read novels?"

"It's not easy to say, Mrs. Tenbruggen, how grateful I am to the writers
of novels."

"Ah! I read novels, too. But I blush to confess--do I blush?--that I
never thought of feeling grateful till you mentioned it. Selina and I
don't complain of your preferring your own reflections to our company.
On the contrary, you have reminded us agreeably of the heroes of
fiction, when the author describes them as being 'absorbed in thought.'
For some minutes, Mr. Governor, you have been a hero; absorbed, as I
venture to guess, in unpleasant remembrances of the time when I was
a single lady. You have not forgotten how badly I behaved, and what
shocking things I said, in those bygone days. Am I right?"

"You are entirely wrong."

It is possible that I may have spoken a little too sharply. Anyway,
faithful Selina interceded for her friend. "Oh, dear sir, don't be hard
on Elizabeth! She always means well." Mrs. Tenbruggen, as facetious as
ever, made a grateful return for a small compliment. She chucked Miss
Jillgall under the chin, with the air of an amorous old gentleman
expressing h