broke into a laugh. "It was for them to come to him! Well, well,"
he said, fixing his eyes on our guide, "they've come to him at last!"

She blushed like a wrinkled rose-leaf. "Indeed, sir, I verily believe
you're one of US!"

"My name's the name of that beautiful youth," Searle went on. "Dear
kinsman I'm happy to meet you! And what do you think of this?" he
pursued as he grasped me by the arm. "I have an idea. He perished at
sea. His spirit came ashore and wandered about in misery till it got
another incarnation--in this poor trunk!" And he tapped his hollow
chest. "Here it has rattled about these forty years, beating its wings
against its rickety cage, begging to be taken home again. And I never
knew what was the matter with me! Now at last the bruised spirit can
escape!"

Our old lady gaped at a breadth of appreciation--if not at the
disclosure of a connexion--beyond her. The scene was really
embarrassing, and my confusion increased as we became aware of another
presence. A lady had appeared in the doorway and the housekeeper dropped
just audibly: "Miss Searle!" My first impression of Miss Searle was that
she was neither young nor beautiful. She stood without confidence on the
threshold, pale, trying to smile and twirling my card in her fingers.
I immediately bowed. Searle stared at her as if one of the pictures had
stepped out of its frame.

"If I'm not mistaken one of you gentlemen is Mr. Clement Searle," the
lady adventured.

"My friend's Mr. Clement Searle," I took upon myself to reply. "Allow me
to add that I alone am responsible for your having received his name."

"I should have been sorry not to--not to see him," said Miss Searle,
beginning to blush. "Your being from America has led me--perhaps to
intrude!"

"The intrusion, madam, has been on our part. And with just that
excuse--that we come from so far away."

Miss Searle, while I spoke, had fixed her eyes on my friend as he stood
silent beneath Sir Joshua's portrait. The housekeeper, agitated and
mystified, fairly let herself go. "Heaven preserve us, Miss! It's your
great-uncle's picture come to life."

"I'm not mistaken then," said Miss Searle--"we must be distantly
related." She had the air of the shyest of women, for whom it was almost
anguish to make an advance without help. Searle eyed her with gentle
wonder from head to foot, and I could easily read his thoughts. This
then was his maiden-cousin, prospective mistress of these hereditary
tre