"Oh! a thousand ways," I replied. "He has been an invalid for many years; and her sudden appearance would account for it in a great measure."
"Perhaps so," he answered in a doubting tone; "but he evidently supposed her to be a near friend."
"Yes," said I, "there is no accounting for the freaks of nature in these close resemblances. I should be struck any where by her resemblance to Frank; yet you know there is no connection."
"She must have a singular countenance," he replied, "I noticed yesterday a strong likeness to young Clifford. Does she know of the circumstances connected with her early history?"
"Not a word of it."
"Nor Clifford?"
"No."
"Then, my dear cousin, I tell you frankly, I think in this instance you and the Doctor have erred—certainly you have not acted with your usual frankness."
I made many excuses which had been satisfactory to my own mind. He said no more, but only shook his head.
When we received Joseph's letter, I thought him the same light-hearted, merry fellow as of old; but I find he has grown very grave. I was a little troubled at what he said, and on conversing with Frank, I find that he is of the same opinion, that we ought at least to communicate the circumstances to Colonel Clifford, if we do not choose to tell Pauline. But Frank says since talking with Mr. Percival, and finding that he had no other child, he felt relieved of all doubt in relation to their connection. But though the thought of it makes me almost sick, I intend to-morrow to do what I know will give exquisite pain to Pauline, by telling her she is my child only by adoption.