Then she gives a great start.
"It would be—ah, it would be Queen Lyle!"
"Exactly," says Georgina. "Quite an odd coincidence. Is it not?"
She leans back in her seat with a thoughtful look on her pretty pink and white face.
Old times and old interests crowd into her mind with the memory of her younger sister. Time has thrown a veil over Queenie's faults and follies, and Georgina recalls her now with a softening remembrance, and half regrets the scorn she cast upon her when she returned to them so strangely.
"But ah! that missing year," she asks herself, as she has done many times before. "Where was it spent?"
Sydney had risen at the first mention of Queenie's name and swept out of the room. Neither time nor change had softened her hatred and resentment against poor little Queenie.
She had hated her beautiful sister while living, and she hated her, even in her grave, so bitterly that she could not endure the mention of her name even now when years had come and gone.