raph was of Hugh, but
it showed him as she had never seen or known him; the even, direct
eyes, the good brow, the little lift of the head were his; he was
younger in the picture--she was seeing him when he was hardly more than
a boy. But it was a boy to whom something startling, amazing, horrible
had happened, numbing and dazing him so that he could only stare out
from the picture in frightened, helpless defiance. That oppression
which she had felt in him had just come upon him; he was not yet used
to bearing what had happened; it seemed incredible and unbearable to
him; she felt instinctively that he had been facing, when this picture
was taken, that injustice which had changed him into the
self-controlled, watchful man that she had known.

So, as she contrasted this man with the boy that he had been, her love
and sympathy for him nearly overpowered her. She clutched the picture
to her, pressed it against her cheek; then suddenly conscious that her
emotion might be audible to her father, she quickly controlled herself.

"What is it you want to know, Father?" she asked.

"You have answered me already what I was going to ask, my dear," he
said to her quietly.

"What, Father?"

"That is the picture of Eaton?"

"Yes."

"I thought so."

She tried to assure herself of the shade of the meaning in her father's
tone; but she could not. She understood that her recognition of the
picture had satisfied him in regard to something over which he had been
in doubt; but whether this was to work in favor of Hugh and
herself--she thought of herself now inseparably with Hugh--or whether
it threatened them, she could not tell.

"Father, what does this mean?" she cried to him.

"What, dear?"

"Your having the picture. Where did you get it?"

Her father made no reply; she repeated it till he granted, "I knew
where it might be. I sent for it."

"But--but, Father--" It came to her now that her father must know who
Hugh was. "Who--"

"I know who he is now," her father said calmly. "I will tell you when
I can."

"When you can?"

"Yes," he said. He was still an instant; she waited. "Where is
Avery?" he asked her, as though his mind had gone to another subject
instantly.

"He has not been in, I believe, since noon."

"He is overseeing the search for Eaton?"

"Yes."

"Send for him. Tell him I wish to see him here at the house; he is to
remain within the house until I have seen him."

Something in her fathe