"That is so," I said. "My grandmother has often told me that if I am good and gentle no one will trouble about my looks."
He turned suddenly then and he said in a singularly sweet voice—
"Dear child! dear child!"
Then he took my hand as though I had been indeed a child and led me up to the portrait.
"What do you see?" he asked.
"I never could be like anything so beautiful," "If Gran looked like that she must have been beautiful indeed, and she beautiful indeed, and she must have looked like it."
The young girl in the portrait was wearing a white satin gown. She was painted in the manner of the period, with a lamb beside her which she had wreathed with roses; and she stood in a flowery meadow. She had an armful of roses like Flora's self, and as she stood one or two escaped and fell down her dress. She had the long neck which has come to me, a beautiful small head, golden hair, warm fair colouring and violet eyes.
"I never could be like it," I said again.
Captain Cardew smiled. I saw him take the miniature from his pocket and look at it and again at the portrait as though he compared them.
"You see the likeness, do you not?" he asked.