“That’s very strange. Everybody who has seen my photograph says it looks exactly like me.”
“I don’t think so.”
“I gave one to a young lady of my acquaintance, who said it was perfect.”
“Indeed! Who was she?”
“She is a young lady whom I have met only two or three times.”
“What is her name?”
“Lilian Ashford.”
“What a pretty name!” said Sue, endeavoring to be magnanimous; though it was evident that she was troubled by the honest avowal of the young soldier.
“Where does she live?”
“She is at the North, now,” answered Somers, who could not bear to tell a lie when there was no need of such a sacrifice.