ame to be dropped down here, so I
told him all about it. And he was so interested that I went and showed
him the things I had on when Dan found me,--you know they've been kept
real nice. And he took them, and looked them over, close, admiring them,
and--and--admiring me,--and finally he started, and then held the frock
to the light, and then lifted a little plait, and in the under side of
the belt-lining there was a name very finely wrought,--Virginie des
Violets; and he looked at all the others, and in some hidden corner of
every one was the initials of the same name,--V. des V.

"'That should be your name, Mrs. Devereux,' says he.

"'Oh, no!' says I. 'My name's Faith.'

"Well, and on that he asked, was there no more; and so I took off the
little chain that I've always worn and showed him that, and he asked if
there was a face in it, in what we thought was a coin, you know; and I
said, oh, it didn't open; and he turned it over and over, and finally
something snapped, and there _was_ a face,--here, you shall see it,
Georgie."

And Faith drew it from her bosom, and opened and held it before me; for
I'd sat with my needle poised, and forgetting to strike. And there was
the face indeed, a sad, serious face, dark and sweet, yet the image of
Faith, and with the same mouth,--that so lovely in a woman becomes weak
in a man,--and on the other side there were a few threads of hair, with
the same darkness and fineness as Faith's hair, and under them a little
picture chased in the gold and enamelled, which, from what I've read
since, I suppose must have been the crest of the Des Violets.

"And what did Mr. Gabriel say then?" I asked, giving it back to Faith,
who put her head into the old position again.

"Oh, he acted real queer. 'The very man!' he cried out. 'The man
himself! His portrait,--I have seen it a hundred times!' And then
he told me that about a dozen years ago or more, a ship sailed
from--from--I forget the place exactly, somewhere up there where _he_
came from,--Mr. Gabriel, I mean,--and among the passengers was this
man and his wife, and his little daughter, whose name was Virginie des
Violets, and the ship was never heard from again. But he says that
without a doubt I'm the little daughter and my name is Virginie, though
I suppose every one'll call me Faith. Oh, and that isn't the queerest.
The queerest is, this gentleman," and Faith lifted her head, "was very
rich. I can't tell you how much he owned. Lands th