regarding the pedigree, nor a great deal about the past, for I only met
her under two years ago."

"And yet I have imagined that you knew her pretty well, and that Mr.
Roscoe knew her even better--perhaps," she said suggestively.

"That is so," I tried to say with apparent frankness, "for she lived in
the South Seas with her father, and Roscoe knew her there."

"She is a strange woman, and quite heartless in some ways; and yet, do
you know, I like her while I dislike her; and I cannot tell why."

"Do not try to tell," I answered, "for she has the gift of making people
do both.--I think she likes and dislikes herself--as well as others."

"As well--as others," she replied slowly. "Yes, I think I have noticed
that. You see," she added, "I do not look at people as most girls of my
age: and perhaps I am no better for that. But Mrs. Falchion's
introduction to me occurred in such peculiar circumstances, and the
coincidence of your knowing her was so strange, that my interest is
not unnatural, I suppose."

"On the contrary," I said, "I am only surprised that you have restrained
your curiosity so much and so long. It was all very strange; though the
meeting was quite to be expected, as Mrs. Falchion herself explained that
day. She had determined on coming over to the Pacific Coast; this place
was in her way; it is a fashionable resort; and she stood a good chance
of finding old friends."

"Yes--of finding--old friends," was the abstracted reply. "I like Miss