She left her seat by the window to look more closely at that portrait, and after a brief examination she turned to the dressing-table to see in the mirror a feminine replica of the face on the wall. She had never noticed the likeness before. She had only to push back her hair and she saw her father. Where his nose was straight, hers was slightly tilted, but there was the same darkness of hair and eyes, the same modelling of the forehead, the same incipient petulance of the lips.
She was astonished, she was unreasonably pleased, and with the energy of her inspiration she swept back the curls of which her mother had been so proud, and pinned them into obscurity. The resemblance was extraordinary: even the low white collar of her blouse, fastened with a black bow, repeated the somewhat Byronic appearance of the young man; and as there came a knock at the door, she turned, a little shame-faced, but excited in the certainty of her success.
But it was only Susan, who gave no sign of astonishment at the change. She had come to see if she could help Miss Henrietta to unpack, but Henrietta had already laid away her meagre outfit in the walnut tallboy with the curved legs. Susan, however, would remove the trunk, and if Miss Henrietta would tell her what dress she wished to wear this evening, Susan would be able to lay out her things. The tin trunk clanked noisily though Susan lifted it with tactful care, and Henrietta blushed for it, but the aged portmanteau, bearing the initials R. M., became in the discreet presence of Susan a priceless possession.
“It’s full of books,” Henrietta said; “I won’t unpack them. I thought my aunts would let me keep them somewhere. They are my father’s books.”
“There’s an old bookcase belonging to Mr. Reginald in the box-room,” Susan said; “I’ll speak to Miss Caroline about it.”
“Did you know my father?” Henrietta asked at once.
“Yes, Miss Henrietta,” Susan said.
“Do you think I’m like him?”
“It’s a striking likeness, Miss Henrietta,” and warming a little, Susan added, “I was just saying so to Cook.”
“Did Cook know him, too?”