“Here, where I am.”
“Then I have been your vis-à-vis?”
“Yes.”
The Princess smiled. “Well, my face must be terribly familiar to you. Perhaps you recognized me at first?”
“Yes; I supposed you must be his daughter. But we believed the portrait to be your mother.”
“How amusing! But poor mamma! there is no portrait of her here. She came away in too much of a hurry to stop for trifles.”
She studied the miniature in silence, then, leaning back in her chair:
“Mais, voyons! I was telling something.”
“About your father–why he came here.”