"No; only a few days."
"Oh!"
"When I first saw her I was struck by her resemblance to Mrs. Rogers," continued the girl.
"But she's so different," said Tom, choking back a sob. "Lucy couldn't be so—so airy, so heartless. She isn't at all that style of a girl, miss."
"She may be acting," suggested Beth.
But he shook his head gloomily.
"No; Lucy couldn't act that way. She's quick and impulsive, but she—she couldn't act. And she wouldn't treat me that way, either, Miss Beth. Lucy and I have been sweethearts for years, and I know every expression of her dear face. But the look that this girl gave me was one that my Lucy never could assume. I must have been mistaken. I—I'm sure I was mistaken."
Beth sighed. She was disappointed.
"I suppose," continued Tom, "that I've thought of Lucy so long and so much, lately, and worried so over her disappearance, that I'm not quite myself, and imagined this girl was more like her than she really is. What did you say her name was?"
"Eliza Parsons."