utiful
face, that strangely resembled his sister's; the large blue-gray eyes
were like hers, but the fair budding moustache scarcely hid the weak,
irresolute mouth. Here the resemblance stopped, for Miss Hamilton's firm
lips and finely-curved chin showed no lack of power; but in her brother's
face--attractive as it was--there were clearly signs of vacillation.

'Well, what do you think of it?' she asked, with a quick catch of her
breath.

'It is a beautiful face,' I returned, rather hesitating. 'Very striking,
too. One could not easily forget it; and it is strangely like you: but--'

'Yes, I know,'--taking it out of my hand and closing the carved
panels,--'but you think it weak. Oh yes, we cannot all be strong alike.
Our Creator has ordained that, and it is for us to be merciful. Poor
Eric! He would be three-and-twenty now. He was just twenty when that was
taken.'

'And he is dead?'

'They say so. They think he is drowned; but we have no real proof,
and we cannot be sure of it. He is alive in my dreams. That is the best
of not really knowing,' she went on, in a sad voice: 'one can go on
praying for him, for, perhaps, after all, he may one day come back;
not from the dead,--oh no, I do not believe that for a moment; but if
he be alive--' her eyes dilating and her manner full of excitement.

I pressed her to tell me about him, adding softly that I could feel for
her more than any one else, as I had lost my own twin-brother. But she
looked kindly at me and shook her head.

'Not to-night, I do not feel well enough, and it always makes me so ill
and excited to speak about it, and we should not have time. Perhaps some
day, when I get more used to you. Oh yes, some day, perhaps.'

'Indeed, I do not wish to intrude upon your trouble, Miss Hamilton,'
I returned, colouring at this repulse. But she took my hand and pressed
it gently.

'You must not be hurt with me. I have never spoken to any one about Eric.
Mr. Cunliffe knows. But he--he--is different, and he was very kind to me.
I must always be grateful.' The tears came into her eyes, and she hurried
on:

'I should like you to know, only I am such a coward. I am so sure of
your sympathy, you seem already such a friend. Why do you call me Miss
Hamilton? I am younger than you. I should like to hear you say Gladys.
Miss Hamilton seems so stiff from you, and for years I have thought of
you as Ursula.'

'You mean that Uncle Max has often talked of me?'

'Oh yes,' with