“Her name is Elinor. She looks like you——” a voice said in her mind.
“Are you not looking for a friend?” she asked presently.
“But, how did you guess?” exclaimed the other girl, clasping her hands with great agitation.
“And his name is Algernon de Willoughby Blackstone Winston?”
“Yes, yes,” cried the English Elinor. “How did you know?”
“I know because I reminded him of you,” answered Elinor Butler, “and because my name is Elinor.”
Then she gave the English girl the address of Steptoe Lodge.
“It is in answer to my prayers—my meeting you,” cried the older girl. “Only it has taken such a long time. If only one has the patience to wait; but it has been very hard. Once we heard of his being in Canada, but when we went to fetch him, his father and I, he had gone and left no trace whatever. We were told that there are a great many young Englishmen on ranches in the Western States and we have been to—Oh, hundreds of places. Lord Blackstone has had detectives looking for him. But you see he changed his name and we have had no success.”
“You will be certain to find him this time,” said Elinor, “only when you go to fetch him, don’t tell him beforehand. Take him by surprise.”
The two girls looked into each other’s eyes, and smiled and pressed hands and—kissed.