o nearly all the orthodox sights of the Great City--and a strange
kaleidoscopic jumble they seemed at the time, only to be afterwards
rearranged by memory as portions of a bright and sunny picture the like
of which she scarcely dared hope ever to see again.

Captain Strickland parted from the Major and Janet at Eastbury station.
The two latter were bound for Deepley Walls, for the Major felt that his
task would have been ill-performed had he failed to deliver Janet into
Lady Chillington's own hands. As they rumbled along the quiet country
roads--which brought vividly back to Janet's mind the evening when she
saw Deepley Walls for the first time--the Major said: "Do you remember,
poppetina, how seven years ago I spoke to you of a certain remarkable
likeness which you then bore to someone whom I knew when I was quite a
young man, or has the circumstance escaped your memory?"

"I remember quite well your speaking of the likeness, and I have often
wondered since who the original was of whom I was such a striking copy.
I remember, too, how positively Lady Chillington denied the resemblance
which you so strongly insisted upon."

"Will her ladyship dare to deny it to-day?" said the Major sternly. "I
tell you, child, that now you are grown up, the likeness seen by me
seven years ago is still more clearly visible. When I look into your
eyes I seem to see my own youth reflected there. When you are near me I
can fancy that my lost treasure has not been really lost to me--that she
has merely been asleep, like the princess in the story-book, and that
while time has moved on for me, she has come back out of her enchanted
slumber as fresh and beautiful as when I saw her last. Ah, poverina! you
cannot imagine what a host of recollections the sight of your sweet face
conjures up whenever I choose to let my day-dreams have way for a little
while."

"I remember your telling me that my parents were unknown to you,"
answered Janet. "Perhaps the lady to whom I bear so strong a resemblance
was my mother."

"No, not your mother, Janet. The lady to whom I refer died unmarried.
She and I had been engaged to each other for three years; but death came
and claimed her a fortnight before the day fixed for our wedding; and
here I am, a lonely old bachelor still."

"Not quite lonely, dear Major Strickland," murmured Janet, as she lifted
his hand and pressed it to her lips.

"True, child, not quite lonely. I have George, whom I love as though he