"I sincerely wish it undone."
"I think you don't," said Mrs. Bertram, slowly. She laughed in a disagreeable manner. "The old woman is coming back," she said suddenly; "invite me into your parlor for a moment, I have a word or two to say to you."
Josephine led the way into the little sitting-room; she offered a chair to Mrs. Bertram, who would not take it. Then she went and shut the door between the kitchen and the parlor, and standing with her back to the shut door turned and faced Mrs. Bertram.
"How did you guess my name?" she said, suddenly.
"That was not so difficult. I recognized you by the description my daughter gave of you. She saw you, remember, that night you hid in the avenue."
"I did not know it was that," said Josephine softly; "I thought it was the likeness. I am the image of him, am I not?"
She took a small morocco case out of her pocket and proceeded to open it.
Mrs. Bertram put her hand up to her eyes as if she would shut away a terrible sight.
"Hush, child! how dare you? Don't show me that picture. I won't look. What a wicked impostor you are!"
"Impostor! You know better, and my grandfather knows better. What is the matter, Mrs. Bertram?"