“‘O, no!’ says I. ‘My name’s Faith.’
“Well, and on that he asked, was there no more; and so I took off the little chain that I’ve always worn and showed him that, and he asked if there was a face in it, in what we thought was a coin, you know; and I said, O, it didn’t open; and he turned it over and over, and finally something snapped, and there was a face,——here, you shall see it, Georgie.”
And Faith drew it from her bosom, and opened and held it before me; for I’d sat with my needle poised, and forgetting to strike. And there was the face indeed, a sad, serious face, dark and sweet, yet the image of Faith, and with the same mouth,——that so lovely in a woman becomes weak in a man,——and on the other side there were a few threads of hair, with the same darkness and fineness as Faith’s hair, and under them a little picture chased in the gold and enamelled, which from what I’ve read since I suppose must have been the crest of the Des Violets.
“And what did Mr. Gabriel say then?” I asked, giving it back to Faith, who put her head into the old position again.
“O, he acted real queer! Talked French, too,——O, so fast! ‘The very man!’ then he cried out. ‘The man himself! His portrait,——I have seen it a hundred times!’ And then he told me that about a dozen years ago or more, a ship sailed from——from——I forget the place exactly, somewhere up there where he came from,——Mr. Gabriel, I mean,——and among the passengers was this man and his wife, and his little daughter, whose name was Virginie des Violets, and the ship was never heard from again. But he says that without a doubt I’m the little daughter and my name is Virginie, though I suppose every one’ll call me Faith. O, and that isn’t the queerest! The queerest is, this gentleman,” and Faith lifted her head, “was very rich. I can’t tell you how much he owned. Lands that you can walk on a whole day and not come to the end, and ships, and gold. And the whole of it’s lying idle and waiting for an heir,——and I, Georgie, am the heir.”
And Faith told it with cheeks burning and eyes shining, but yet quite as if she’d been born and brought up in the knowledge.
“It don’t seem to move you much, Faith,” said I, perfectly amazed, although I’d frequently expected something of the kind.
“Well, I may never get it, and so on. If I do, I’ll give you a silk dress and set you up in a bookstore. But here’s a queerer thing yet. Des Violets is the way Mr. Gabriel’s own name is spelt, and his father and mine——his mother and——Well, some way or other we’re sort of cousins. Only think, Georgie! isn’t that——I thought, to be sure, when he quartered at our house, Dan’d begin to take me to do, if I looked at him sideways,——make the same fuss that he does if I nod to any of the other young men.”
“I don’t think Dan speaks before he should, Faith.”
“Why don’t you say Virginie?” says she, laughing.