Later in the day Mrs. Stafford was taken into the secret, as was also Miss Fleming, who returned a week later.
"Auntie is so nervous," explained Miss Fleming, "that when mamma has a headache she summons every doctor and every relative she can reach. Mamma never knew I was coming home until I arrived! And she just packed me back here, I really believe, to teach Auntie a lesson! And now tell about your trip to London."
They were all seated in the drawing-room. Martin had just returned from London, whither he had gone to learn if anything had been heard from Blount. He had heard nothing from that gentleman, and he was growing anxious over the continued silence. It would also appear that he was mistaken regarding Hall's movements, for a letter received that day announced his expectation of returning within a week. He felt decidedly blue and was not inclined to talk. Kate, therefore, told of the trip to London—an event of no little moment to her—where they had gone afterwards, and finally of their being photographed.
"Oh! Gracious! Let me see it, Kate! It must be one of those horrid tin things!" and after a glance at it Miss Fleming continued: "I declare, Kate! For your own sake, you really ought to burn it! It's almost as bad as the one I had taken three years ago—only mine is smaller!"
Martin became interested at this point, and now asked Miss Fleming if she had preserved any of the photographs. He had been gazing at her idly while she was speaking, still trying to remember where he had seen her before, and when she spoke of the photographs a sudden light burst upon him. Hers was the original of the face in the locket!
Martin asked the question so eagerly that he attracted the attention of the others.
"I don't know but I should have, for we had enough taken to exchange all around, and I managed to beg most of mine back. There was a whole crowd of us out sailing, and gentlemen were at a premium; but as I was only a little thing then, they didn't mind humoring me."
"Of course not," rejoined Martin, with a smile at the lady now nineteen years of age and four feet ten inches in height. "Of course not, but can you let me see one of those horrible photographs? I am really anxious to see one."
"Well, if I have got any of them they are at home; so, of course, I can't show them to you now."
"Could you not write for one?" persisted Martin. "It is not mere curiosity, Miss Fleming, but on the contrary, of the greatest importance that I should see one of the photographs you mention. They were of the size put in a locket, were they not?"