"I really beg your pardon," he went on, in a firm but respectful tone. "I am sure I have met you before. I do not wonder that you do not remember me, but I cannot forget you. Yours isn't a face one easily forgets," and he smiled genially, and in a manner to disarm criticism.
"But I never was in Portland," insisted Estelle, and it was plain that she was puzzled by his persistence but not offended by it. "And I don't remember ever having seen you before."
"Perhaps if I recall some of the circumstances to you it may bring back the memory," suggested the lieutenant. "Believe me, I do not do it out of mere idle curiosity, but you seemed in such distress at the time, and so uncertain of where you wanted to go, that I really wished after I had directed you that I had placed you in charge of the conductor of your train."
"But I never was in Portland," said Estelle again, "and though I have been in New York, I went there from Boston. Surely you have confused me with some one else."
The young officer shook his head.
"I couldn't do that," he said with a smile that showed his white, even teeth. "It was just about this time three—no, four years ago. I was in Portland on business, and as I entered the railroad station you were standing there——"
Estelle shook her head, smiling.
"Well, for the sake of argument," admitted the lieutenant, "say it was some one who looked like you."
"All right," agreed Miss Brown, and she and Alice drew near the porch railing, on the other side of which stood the officer with doffed hat.
"A young lady was standing there, and she seemed quite bewildered," went on Lieutenant Varley. "I saw that she was in some confusion, and asked if I could be of any service to her. She said she wanted to get to New York, but did not know which train to take. I asked her if she had her ticket, and she replied in the negative. I asked her if she wanted to buy one, and she said she did, showing a purse well filled with bills——"