Mrs. Crawford's face flushed up, and she said in a tone of vexation:
"It was here a little while, sir, and it got me into trouble. But it was nobody's fault but my own. Excuse me again, sir--you speak as if you knew Miss Bidaud."
"I knew her intimately; she and I were, and I hope are, very dear friends. Her father and I had a great esteem for each other."
"That was in Australia, sir?"
"That was in Australia. Miss Bidaud was but a child at the time."
"You have seen her since, I suppose, sir?"
"I have not. To be frank with you, that is the object of my visit to you. I earnestly desire to know where she is."
"She is a beautiful young lady now, sir," said Mrs. Crawford; diverging a little; from the expression on her face she seemed to be considering something as she gazed attentively at Basil. "Perhaps you can recognise her."
She handed Basil an album, and he turned over its pages till he came to a portrait which rivetted his attention. It was the portrait of Annette; he recognised it instantly, but how beautiful she had grown! An artist had coloured the picture, and the attractive subject must have interested him deeply, so well and skilfully was the colouring done. The gracefully-shaped head, the long, golden-brown hair, the lovely hazel eyes, magnetised Basil, as it were. There was a pensive look in the eyes, and something of wistfulness in the expression of the mouth, which Basil construed into a kind of appeal. It may be forgiven him if he thought that it was to him the mute face was appealing. Long and earnestly did he gaze: reminiscences of the happy hours they had passed together floated through his mind; her confidence, her trust in him, and her father's last words on the evening on which he had accepted the guardianship of his child, were never less powerful and, sacred in the sense they conveyed of a duty yet to be performed than they were at this moment. When, at length, he raised his eyes from the portrait, Mrs. Crawford saw tears in them. Had she had any doubts of her visitor, these tears would have dispelled them.
"Is she not lovely, sir?"