"How do you know she doesn't?" asked Austin.
"My dear!" exclaimed Aunt Charlotte, rather shocked.
"Well, you can't be sure," retorted Austin, "and I believe myself she does. I'm sure of one thing, anyhow—and that is that if she came into the room at this moment I should recognise her at once."
"You? Why, you never saw her in your life!" said Aunt Charlotte. "You shouldn't indulge such fancies, Austin. You could only think it might possibly be your mother, from the descriptions you've heard of her. Of course you could never be certain."
"How is it she never had her likeness taken?" enquired Austin, laying his book aside.
"She did have her likeness taken once; but she didn't care for it, and I don't think she kept any copies," replied Aunt Charlotte. "It was just a common cabinet photograph, you know, done by some man or other in a country town. There may be one or two in existence, but I've never come across any. I've often wished I could."
"There are a lot of old trunks up in the attic, full of all sorts of rubbish," suggested Austin. "It might be amusing to go up and grub about among them some day. One might find wonderful heirlooms, and jewels, and forgotten wills. I should like to hunt there awfully. I'm sure they haven't been touched for a century."
"In that case it isn't likely we should find your mother's photograph among them," retorted Aunt Charlotte briskly.
Austin laughed. "But may I?" he persisted.
"My dear, of course you may if you like," replied Aunt Charlotte. "I don't suppose there are any treasures or secrets to be unearthed; probably you'll find nothing but a lot of old bills, and school-books, and such-like useless lumber. There may be some forgotten photographs—I couldn't swear there aren't; but if you do find anything of interest I shall be much surprised."