_Some one!_

The professor gets slowly on to his feet, and stares at the
advancing apparition. Is it child or woman, this fair vision? A hard
question to answer! It is quite easy to read, however, that "some
one" is very lovely!

"It is you, Mr. Curzon, is it not?" says the vision.

Her voice is sweet and clear, a little petulant perhaps, but still
_very_ sweet. She is quite small--a _little_ girl--and clad in deep
mourning. There is something pathetic about the dense black
surrounding such a radiant face, and such a childish figure. Her
eyes are fixed on the professor, and there is evident anxiety in
their hazel depths; her soft lips are parted; she seems hesitating
as if not knowing whether she shall smile or sigh. She has raised
both her hands as if unconsciously, and is holding them clasped
against her breast. The pretty fingers are covered with costly
rings. Altogether she makes a picture--this little girl, with her
brilliant eyes, and mutinous mouth, and soft black clinging gown.
Dainty-sweet she looks,

"Sweet as is the bramble-flower."

"Yes," says the professor, in a hesitating way, as if by no means
certain of the fact. He is so vague about it, indeed, that "some
one's" dark eyes take a mischievous gleam.

"Are you _sure?"_ says she, and looks up at him suddenly, a little
sideways perhaps, as if half frightened, and gives way to a naughty