“I have not crossed the Park to-day.”
“Then I met your ghost.”
“Can you not be a little glad to meet me in the flesh?”
“Mary Sherwood was with me and she recognized you; she saw you before I did.”
He laughed the low amused laugh that she had heard so often. “My cousin Philip will believe now that he might be my brother—my twin brother—but that he appears older than he is. He has come to Dunellen to take a professorship. He is to be Greek teacher at the Seminary instead of Professor Grey. Philip is a rare linguist; he is a rare scholar. It is the Comedy of Errors over again. I suppose that he did not talk to you and say that he was glad to see you again.”
“He bowed, he could not but do it. I expect that he thought I recognized him, as I certainly did. You will look like him some day, but he will never look like you.”
“Your distinction is not flattering. May I ask a kindness of you?”
“Do you need to ask that?” she answered hurriedly.
“My mother is homesick in Dunellen. Will you call upon her?”
She colored, hesitating. After a second, during which she felt his eyes upon her, she said, “Yes.”