191Now, while the Princess was the more surprised of the two, the girl in the faded garments experienced a greater bewilderment. For this visitor bore a startling resemblance to the miniature,–the wife whose grave was among the pines. And Elinor stared, as if half awake, at the round face, the drooping eyes, and the very familiar features of this sudden guest. Even the arrangement of the hair was unchanged, and the infantile mouth appeared exactly as depicted in the little portrait that hung beside her. Had this portrait come to life and stood near its own chair, the effect would have been the same.
But the lady from Paris was the first to find her voice. In French, with somewhat frigid politeness, she said:
“Pardon me, Mademoiselle; I expected to find another person here.”
Also in French the girl replied:
“Madame is the daughter, perhaps, of the gentleman who lived here?”
The Princess, with her head, made a slight affirmative movement. And she frowned more from anxiety than resentment as she asked: “You say lived here. Does he not live here now?”
And she read in the face before her, from 192its sympathy and sadness, the answer she dreaded.
Elinor, before replying, came nearer to the table. “Do you speak English?”
The Princess nodded, and seated herself in the chair of the miniature, and with clasped hands and a pale face, whispered:
“He is–dead?”