"Perhaps you will not believe it; but it seemed as though something long forgotten were actually stirring in my heart, and as though it were groping blindly in the mists of memory. I could not be sure, yet something forced me to answer, uncertainly, 'Yes, I think, I believe that I do remember that name; but I don't know where I could have heard it. What do you mean, Philip?'
"His answer surprised me as much as the first question, for he said, 'Was it in ... Louisville?'
"'Louisville? I have never been there, Philip. And yet....' There was the strange stir in my memory again. Oh, it was all so puzzling.
"'Anna Rose Young,' he repeated insistently. 'They called her Rose, because ... because her mother's name was the same.'
"'They called her ... Philip, I do remember, now. It's my own name! Oh, Philip, you know who I am! But how, Phil?' I was clinging to him as though I must draw the truth from him physically; but he went on, almost mechanically, and his breath came hard, I could feel him tremble, Don."
Now her own low voice was trembling excitedly.
"'A tall, slender man, who stooped a little, Smiles,' he said. 'His face was thoughtful and kindly. He had a close-clipped, pointed beard, and wore gold-rimmed spectacles, and his eyes were very blue, as blue as your own, Rose. Tell me, does the picture mean anything to you?'
"I tried to visualize it, Don, and I could, as though it were some one far, far off whom I could see through the mist.
"'My daddy, Philip,' I whispered; I could hardly speak at all, for my throat was aching and I was crying."
She was crying, now, but did not realize it.