"But, although you were rich, you did not come home? You spent a good deal of time in the Far North, and when you went out for a rest, you came no further east than Seattle or San Francisco?"
"There was no reason for us to come here. All our friends had turned against us in our misfortunes, and our only child was dead. So it was only a few months ago that we came home."
"That is very tragic. Thank you, Mrs. Richards. One moment—I have another question to ask."
He stepped toward the gangplank.
"I will be back in a moment," he said.
He went on board the boat, and while all those on the dock, puzzled and mystified by his questions, waited, he disappeared. When he returned he was not alone. A woman was with him, and, at the sight of her, Bessie gave a cry of astonishment.
"Now, Mrs. Richards," said Charlie. "Have you ever seen this woman before!"
"I think I have," she said, in a strange, puzzled tone. "But—she has changed so—"
"Her name is Mrs. Hoover, Mrs. Richards. Does that help you to remember?"
"Oh!" Mrs. Richards sobbed and burst into tears. "Mrs. Hoover!" she said, brokenly. "To think that I could forget you! Tell me—"