"Pray do not stand," she said. "We may be some little time. Did I not understand my--Mary, to say that you are Mr. Ralph Darnley?"
"That is quite correct," Ralph said quietly. "Miss Mary made no mistake."
"Possibly not. The mistake is on your side. I do not wish to seem in the least curious or impertinent, but have you no other name?"
"For the present, none," said Ralph. "Will not your ladyship oblige me by leaving matters just as they are for the moment? My happiness, the happiness of everybody, depends upon a complete and absolute discretion. I did not desire to see you----"
"No! I gathered that when I saw your face a night or two ago in the shrubbery. The moon was shining on your features, and it seemed to me that I was face to face with a ghost. But let me show you something, Mr. Darnley. It is a miniature of a man whom I have not seen for nearly forty years, the picture of my son. He left home for reasons which I need not go into, I never looked on his face again. I have never before shown the picture to anybody, but I have my very good reasons for showing it to you. What do you think of it?"
With trembling hands the old lady passed a miniature in a small gold frame over to Ralph. He gazed at the picture long and intently, with a flush on his face and something that was very like moisture in his eyes. He was silent for so long that Lady Dashwood felt constrained to speak.
"Well?" she asked. "I will try to restrain the natural curiosity of my sex and not ask too many questions. Did you ever see that face before?"
"You force me to reply," Ralph said slowly. "You have the advantage over me, Lady Dashwood."
"Please do not call me Lady Dashwood. Oh, I am not going to try to force your confidence; that will come to me in time. Only you have not yet replied to my question. I asked you if ever you have seen that face before?"
"Many a time and oft," Ralph said. "Is it very like me?"