Once at this parting moment he took both her hands, and drew her nearer
to him, peering into her face in the clear evening light.

'You are like my mother,' he said. 'Yes, you are very like her. And who
else is it that you are like? There is some one else, I know. Yes, some
one else! I remember! It is a face in a picture--a picture at Maulevrier
Castle.'

'What do you know of Maulevrier Castle?' asked Mary, wonderingly.

Maulevrier was the family seat in Herefordshire, which had not been
occupied by the elder branch for the last forty years. Lady Maulevrier
had let it during her son's minority to a younger branch of the family,
a branch which had intermarried with the world of successful commerce,
and was richer than the heads of the house. This occupation of
Maulevrier Castle had continued to the present time, and was likely
still to continue, Maulevrier having no desire to set up housekeeping in
a feudal castle in the marches.

'How came you to know Maulevrier Castle?' repeated Mary.

'I was there once. There is a picture by Lely, a portrait of a Lady
Maulevrier in Charles the Second's time. The face is yours, my love. I
have heard of such hereditary faces. My mother was proud of resembling
that portrait.'

'What did your mother know of Maulevrier Castle?'

The old man did not answer. He had lapsed into that dream-like