Her mother, whom she lost when she was quite a child, was a
very beautiful Irish girl of good family, a first cousin of Lord
Cray's--a Miss Desmond, who ran away with the interesting patriot. They
lived somewhere near Paris. It was there that Madame Seraskier died of
cholera--... What is the matter--are you ill?"
[Illustration]
I made out that I was faint from the heat, and concealed as well as I
could the flood of emotion and bewilderment that overwhelmed me.
I dared not look again at the Duchess of Towers.
"Oh! little Mimsey dear, with your poor thin arms round my neck, and
your cold, pale cheek against mine. I felt them there only last night!
To have grown into such a splendid vision of female health and strength
and beauty as this--with that enchanting, ever-ready laugh and smile!
Why, of course, those eyes, so lashless then, so thickly fringed
to-day!--how could I have mistaken them? Ah, Mimsey, you never smiled or
laughed in those days, or I should have known your eyes again! Is it
possible--is it possible?"
Thus I went on to myself till the ladies left, my fair young companion
expressing her kind anxiety and polite hope that I would soon be
myself again.
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