“I—oh no!” Anna said, a little faintly. “I have made no arrangements as yet—none at all.”
Mr. Earles recovered his spirits.
“Excellent!” he exclaimed. “Your arrival is really most opportune. The halls are on the lookout for something new. By-the-bye, do you recognize that?”
Anna looked and gasped. An enormous poster almost covered one side of the wall—the poster. The figure of the girl upon it in plain black dress, standing with her hands behind her, was an undeniable and astonishing likeness of herself. It was her figure, her style of dress, her manner of arranging the hair. Mr. Earles regarded it approvingly.
“A wonderful piece of work,” he declared. “A most wonderful likeness, too. I hope in a few days, Miss Pellissier, that these posters will be livening up our London hoardings.”
Anna leaned back in the chair and laughed softly. Even this man had accepted her for “Alcide” without a moment’s question. Then all the embarrassments of the matter flashed in upon her. She was suddenly grave.
“I suppose, Mr. Earles,” she said, “that if I were to tell you that although that poster was designed from a rough study of me, and although my name is Pellissier, that nevertheless, I am not ‘Alcide’ would you believe me?”
“You can try it on, if you like,” Mr. Earles remarked genially. “My only answer would be to ask you to look at that mirror and then at the poster. The poster is of ‘Alcide.’ It’s a duplicate of the French one.”
Anna got up and looked at the mirror and then at the poster. The likeness was ridiculous.
“Well?” she said, sitting down again. “I want an engagement.”