This movement produced an explanation, and he delicately contrived to elicit from her that she too had lost a sister, under circumstances no less strange and mysterious than those attending the disappearance of Lotte.
While she was speaking, the remembrance of Lotte’s new-made friend, the companion of her flight, flashed across his mind, and when she had ceased speaking, he gave a rapid sketch of her person to Evangeline; it was graphic and truthful.
“It is she!” exclaimed Evangeline, clasping her hands.
Then followed a thousand questions put to him vehemently. The date, the day, the dress, all confirmed her supposition, but his answers were necessarily limited; he could say very little, save that up to a certain time a young lady had resided with his sister, and that they had departed somewhere together—where, he could not conjecture; but was now engaged in endeavouring to ascertain.
Again and again she made him repeat the particulars which assured her that Helen was still living, and though once more hiding away in some mysterious lurking-place, she was, nevertheless, neither beyond the pale of discovery, nor the probability of being communicated with, visited, perhaps restored to her home by her Evangeline.
Oh, that she might be permitted to assist in the search for her! She suggested this very, very earnestly, and seemed sadly disconcerted when he shook his head. Was there no portion of the inquiry in which she could take part!—was there no species of aid she could lend? Ah! if he could only point out in what particular her services would be useful, with what delight she would render them.
He gazed earnestly upon her features.
“Pardon me,” he said, suddenly, while a peculiar expression of surprise stole over his face, “I fear I have committed some mistake. If you are the sister of the young lady lately residing with mine, you can hardly be Miss Wilton, or surely your brother Mark would have recognized her.”
“My name is Grahame. My sister’s name is Helen Grahame; I have no brother named Mark,” responded Evangeline, naively.
“Then I trust you will pardon my intrusion,” he added, moving as if about to retire. “Miss Wilton is a—a—friend of my sister’s, though a stranger to me, and I hoped that I should from her obtain some desirable information.”