your question it is related here without hesitancy or shame.

A week later John took me to the house of his prospective father-in-
law, and in Miss Margovan, as you have already surmised, but to my
profound astonishment, I recognized the heroine of that discreditable
adventure. A gloriously beautiful heroine of a discreditable
adventure I must in justice admit that she was; but that fact has
only this importance: her beauty was such a surprise to me that it
cast a doubt upon her identity with the young woman I had seen
before; how could the marvelous fascination of her face have failed
to strike me at that time? But no--there was no possibility of
error; the difference was due to costume, light and general
surroundings.

John and I passed the evening at the house, enduring, with the
fortitude of long experience, such delicate enough banter as our
likeness naturally suggested. When the young lady and I were left
alone for a few minutes I looked her squarely in the face and said
with sudden gravity:

"You, too, Miss Margovan, have a double: I saw her last Tuesday
afternoon in Union square."

She trained her great gray eyes upon me for a moment, but her glance
was a trifle less steady than my own and she withdrew it, fixing it
on the tip of her shoe.

"Was she very like me?" she asked, with an indifference which I
thought a little overdone.