"You are like Austin," she said, coiling herself on the couch again; "he started and dropped his cigar just now."
Blair walked out of her hearing, and beckoned Austin Ambrose.
"Do you know whom it was I saw just now?" he said.
"Couldn't guess," replied Austin.
"It was Lottie Belvoir," said Blair.
"Oh, nonsense; it's impossible!" said Austin Ambrose, lightly. "I tell you she is on an English tour at this present moment. How on earth could she be here?"
"I do not know, but I am certain it was she," said Blair, gravely.
"I'll soon convince you," said Austin Ambrose, and he disappeared. He mingled with the crowd for five minutes; then he was back again. "As I thought," he said, with a smile. "She is a Neapolitan girl with a face rather like Lottie's."
"Rather like!" said Blair, with a sigh of relief. "It was an astonishing resemblance, but if you saw the girl closely it is all right."
But the resemblance to Lottie of the girl in rags in the streets of Naples haunted him several times that evening, and on his way to Prince Rivani's rooms, he found himself unconsciously scanning the faces of the women who passed, as if he feared to see the girl.