yesterday awakened strange thoughts. I must strongly resemble some other
woman, and you met her in Italy. Perhaps you are reminded of
some one very near to me, of whom I have lost all trace. Answer me
honestly, for I do not ask from idle curiosity. Where did you meet her?"

"In Lugano. We drove to Milan with the same vetturino, and afterwards I
found her again in Rome and saw her daily for months."

Then you know her intimately. Do you still think the resemblance
surprising, after having seen me for the second time?"

"Very surprising."

"Then I must have a double. Is she a native of this country?"

"She called herself an Italian, but she understood Dutch, for she has
often turned the pages of my books and followed the conversation I had
with young artists from our home. I think she is a German lady of noble
family."

"An adventuress then. And her name?"

"Isabella--but I think no one would be justified in calling her an
adventuress."

"Was she married?"

"There was something matronly in her majestic appearance, yet she never
spoke of a husband. The old Italian woman, her duenna, always called
her Donna Isabella, but she possessed little more knowledge of her past