“As soon as I said that I was Peter Wright she asked:
“‘Were you the owner of the Red Dragon Inn at one time?’
“I replied in the affirmative, and I saw a smile encircle her lips.
“‘You don’t remember me,’ she said, after a pause.
“‘Indeed, I do not,’ I replied. ‘I cannot recall that I ever saw you before.’
“‘No doubt, no doubt,’ she murmured. She glanced around the room and ran her hand across her forehead. ‘I have changed wonderfully,’ she went on. ‘Twenty years works wonderful changes in all of us,’ and she smiled, with the sweetest smile I ever beheld upon the face of a woman.
“‘We all change,’ I interpolated, and she replied:
“‘You are right. I was a girl when you saw me last, and now I am a woman. Mr. Wright, do you not remember Isabella Porter?’
“The instant she mentioned the name I remembered her.
“Her parents used to live a few doors from the Red Dragon Inn. Her father was a produce merchant. When she was a small girl I used to give her pennies to spend. Her father died and her mother moved out of the neighborhood. I lost track of them, and I had not seen nor heard of Isabella until she appeared in my room.