"Let me see that photograph a minute, Granthope. What a lot of hair she had! I've seen it to her feet. Cly has fine hair, but not like her mother's. The same eyes, you see—full of dreams, but they wake up, sometimes, I tell you! You may find out, sometime. Level brows and a fullish lower lip. Do you know what that means? I do.
"I didn't see her again for over a year. I hunted everywhere she had ever been; Boston, Toledo, New York, everywhere! Finally I gave it up in despair, and went abroad, trying to forget part of it. There I met my wife. I married her in sheer despair; but I found out how fine she was when I told her the story. I didn't think that there were two such women in the world! I have a beautiful painting of her, done while we were in Florence, but I never dared to put it up, on account of Clytie. It didn't seem right. But you'll see it in the dining-room to-morrow, I think.
"Where was I? Oh, yes. We came to San Francisco for business reasons. Before I had been here a week I happened upon Felicia down-town—she had followed Mrs. Woodhull's example and had gone into business herself—real estate. She did well at it, too. But at sight of me she flew off the handle. Every time I saw her it affected her in the same way. Good God! Can you imagine what it must be to know that the only way you can help a woman you love and pity is to stay away from her? I couldn't do anything, but my wife went to see her and seemed to be able to pacify her. She found out that Felicia had a child—then a few months old. The first I knew of it, the baby was here in the house, and my wife told me that we would adopt her. No one ever knew that Clytie wasn't our own child. No one knows but you and I, to this day, I think.
"It was a fearful injustice to her, I suppose. Do you think she can forgive me?" The old man was pathetically humble and looked to the young man as to a guardian.
"Mr. Payson," said Granthope, "have you lived all this while with her and not known that? I have known her only two months, and I am sure of it!"
"So you think you love her, do you?" Mr. Payson looked at him curiously.
"I do, sir. And I think that she loves me."
"Felicia's adopted boy!" the old man said to himself, "and Clytie! And to think that I had wanted her to marry Cayley!"
He broke off to stand, staring at Granthope, without a word. Then he exclaimed: "By Jove! I had forgotten. Cayley was here to-day—Cly's gone off with him, up to Mount Tamalpais, to join a party there. Now I recall it—there seemed to be something between them. You are sure she cares for you?" he demanded.
"Last night she did—and we parted, thinking never to be able to see one another again."