w do you know
I'm not?"

"For the best of reasons," was the reply. "Besides, how can you prove
that you are? Thirty-five years is a long time."

"'Specially on a desert island," said Mr. Wotton, rapidly. "You'd be
surprised 'ow slow the time passes. I was there with 'im, and I can lay
my hand on my 'art and assure you that that is your husband."

"Nonsense!" said the old lady, vigorously. "Rubbish!"

"I can prove it," said Mr. Davis, fixing her with a glittering eye. "Do
you remember the serpent I 'ad tattooed on my leg for a garter?"

"If you don't go at once," said the old lady, hastily, "I'll send for the
police."

"You used to admire it," said Mr. Davis, reproachfully. "I remember
once----"

"If you say another word," said the other, in a fierce voice, "I'll send
straight off for the police. You and your serpents! I'll tell my
husband of you, that's what I'll do."

"Your WHAT?" roared Mr. Davis, springing to his feet.

"My husband. He won't stand any of your nonsense, I can tell you. You'd
better go before he comes in."

"O-oh," said Mr. Davis, taking a long breath. "Oh, so you been and got
married again, 'ave you? That's your love for your husband as was cast
away while trying to earn a living for you. That's why you don't want
me, is it? We'll see. I'll wait for him."

"You don't know what you're talking about," said the other, with great
dignity. "I've only been married once."

Mr. Davis passed the back of his hand across his eyes in a dazed fashion
and stared at her.

"Is--is somebody passing himself off as me?" he demanded. "'Cos if he
is I'll 'ave you both up for bigamy."

"Certainly not."

"But--but--"

Mr. Davis turned and looked blankly at his friend. Mr. Wotton met his
gaze with dilated eyes.

"You say you recognize me as your wife?" said the old lady.

"Certainly," said Mr. Davis, hotly.

"It's very curious," said the other--"very. But are you sure? Look
again."

Mr. Davis thrust his face close to hers and stared hard. She bore his
scrutiny without flinching.

"I'm positive certain," said Mr. Davis, taking a breath.

"That's very curious," said the old lady; "but, then, I suppose we are a
bit alike. You see, Mrs. Davis being away, I'm looking after her house
for a bit. My name happens to be Smith."

Mr. Davis uttered a sharp exclamation, and, falling back a step, stared
at her open-mouthed.

"We all make mistakes," urged Mr. Wotton, after a long