g your pardon," he said. "I should not have dreamed for
a moment of intruding myself on you if I had known. I ought to have
recognised you. I can't understand--"

The lady laid down the book she held in her hand, and turned her back
on Sir Gilbert. She crossed the platform, and entered a carriage
without looking back. Sir Gilbert stood stiff and awkward beside the
bookstall.

"It's a most extraordinary likeness," he muttered. "I can't understand
why I didn't notice it before. I can't have ever really looked at her."

Then, avoiding the carriage which the lady had entered, he walked
further along the platform. He was much less self-assertive in his
progress. He threaded his way instead of elbowing it through the
crowd. The most fragile peeress might have jostled him, and he would
not have resented it.

"Uncle Gilbert! Is that you? I was afraid you were going to be late."

The judge turned quickly. A lady, another lady, leaned out of the
window of a first-class compartment and greeted him. He stared at her.
The likeness was less striking now when he looked at his niece's full
face; but it was there, quite unmistakable; a sufficient excuse for the
blunder he had made.

"Ah, Milly," he said; "you really are Milly, aren't you? I've just had
a most extraordinary encounter with your double. It's a most
remarkable coincidence; quite the thing for one of your novels. By the
way, how's the new one getting on?"

"Which one? I'm just correcting a set of proofs, and I'm deep in the
plot of another. That's what's taking me over to Ireland. I thought
I'd told you."

"Yes, yes; local colour you said in your letter. Studying the wild
Hibernian on his native soil; but really, Milly, when you've heard my
story you won't want to go to Ireland for wild improbabilities.
But I can't tell you now. There isn't time. We'll meet in
Bally-what-do-you-call-it next week."

"And you'll stay with me, Uncle Gilbert, won't you? The house I've
taken appears to be a perfect barrack. According to the agent, there
are any amount of spare bedrooms."

"No," said the judge; "I've taken rooms at the hotel. The fact is,
Milly, when I'm fishing I like to rough it a bit. Besides, I should
only be in your way. You'll be working tremendously hard."

Neither excuse expressed Sir Gilbert's real reason for refusing his
niece's invitation. He did not like roughing it, and he did not think
it the least likely that his presence i