'He told me a good deal about himself, and spoke much of his wife, to whom he seemed to be quite unusually attached. He said he would introduce me to her, as he knew she would like me; that she was very fond of the stage, had a passion for artistes' society, and a great many other things of the same kind. Of course I asked him what she was like, and he gave me a great description of her beauty and grace. I suppose I did not keep down a smile of something like incredulity, or at least of a suspicion of some exaggeration, in this description, for he said, "You shall see for yourself, Miss Montressor, whether I am exaggerating like an absent lover my Helen's charms;" and he took out a watch--one of a very peculiar construction; I had never seen one like it--and opened it by touching a spring so carefully concealed that, when he put it into my hands afterwards, and told me to try if I could open it, I could not even perceive where the spring lay. The cover flew back and disclosed a miniature of a woman who was certainly very pretty, and had the kind of face which one does not forget. I looked at it for a good while: held it in my hand--for Mr. Foster had taken it off his watch-chain--as we walked up and down on the terrace, and made myself perfectly familiar with the features; the arrangement of the hair particularly struck me, and I remarked to him how well it suited the face. He said yes, he had always thought so; that his wife had very good taste, and was her own hairdresser. You will see presently why I tell you these particulars.'
'I especially wish you to tell me every particular you can recollect,' said Bryan Duval.
'I do not think there was anything remarkable except that in what he said to me,' said Miss Montressor. 'The subject was again referred to during our drive home, and he told me the watch containing the portrait was a parting gift from his wife. She had given it to him on the very evening before he had left New York, and he had promised always to wear it. I thought it a little unusual for a man to speak so frankly and so freely of a thing of the kind, and I suppose I said it or looked it. I do not remember that, but I do recollect his saying, "Out of the fulness of the heart, you know. Miss Montressor, the mouth speaketh," when neither a lack of sympathy nor ridicule was to be apprehended. I thought him a man of considerable feeling, and that he found his sojourn in England very wearisome, so that he was relieved by finding any one, even a stranger, to whom he might talk of his home.'
'He was not a reticent man,' said Bryan Duval, 'as I have good reason to know; a reason which I shall tell you presently if, as I fear, there is more in this matter than meets the eye, and I have to ask your help in a painful duty that may fall to my share. But pray go on, and tell me what is the connection between Mr. Foster's confidence to you and the lady whom you saw tonight.'
Miss Montressor hesitated for just one moment. Could she explain herself fully without the revelation of the family secret she had strongly desired to preserve? Not if Bryan Duval were to question her very closely on material issues. 'Never mind,' she thought, 'I must risk it. I won't tell it unless I am forced, but I cannot hold my tongue here--it is too serious.'
'I have a friend in New York,' she said, 'who came to see me yesterday, and in the course of some gossip about this place and the people in it she happened to mention a certain Mrs. Griswold, who holds a high position here, and who is a great admirer of the drama. My friend told me that Mrs. Griswold had been particularly anxious to see me in one of my best parts, and had taken places for our first appearance. This Mrs. Griswold, it appears, was very handsome, very charming, and altogether a somebody. I fancied I should like to recognise her, if possible, among the audience; and as my friend knew where she was going to sit, she gave me a description of her appearance and dress, which would have enabled me to recognise her, had this lady occupied the place my friend knew she had taken. The description was--brown hair, worn plain, without flowers or jewels, brown eyes, pale blue velvet dress, gold ornaments, and a blue-and-gold fan. Not very distinct, after all, when you come to think of it, now that pale blue velvet is so fashionable; but true enough, when I looked at the place my friend had directed my attention to--the last seat but two, dress circle, right-hand side--I saw a lady who was watching the play intently, and whose appearance and dress entirely coincided with my friend's description--but the lady was not Mrs. Griswold.'
'Not Mrs. Griswold!' exclaimed Bryan Duval. 'How do you know?'
'Because,' returned Miss Montressor impressively, 'the face was the face of Mr. Foster's wife, as I saw it in the miniature enclosed in the watch-cover; the hair and the eyes were quite unmistakable. That she was the woman who had sat for that miniature I cannot entertain the smallest doubt. It is Mrs. Foster, and therefore not Mrs. Griswold!'
Bryan Duval had listened to the latter part of Miss Montressor's narrative with intense, even painful, eagerness. It was evident that he attached immense importance to the apparently insignificant mistake made by Miss Montressor; a mistake easily to be explained on the theory that her friend had given her an erroneous indication of Mrs. Griswold's place in the house. Not so did Bryan Duval interpret it.
'You are quite sure,' he repeated, 'that you looked at the place where you were told to look for Mrs. Griswold?'