"Selina Martyn, you're looking remarkably well, and nearly as young as ever," he continued.
She raised her eyes shyly, and smiled as she replied, "Do you really think so, Mr. Freeman?"
"Call me Edgar, I like it better; and we've known each other long enough to account for your doing so." He did not give her a chance of objecting, but continued, "I only landed in England yesterday, and you are the first person I've called on. I got your address from my cousin, Mrs. Perry—Maud Elliott that was; she's living in Monte Video, you know; I saw her for a few hours as I passed through. Really, Selina, you're looking prettier than ever, I declare!"
"You mustn't flatter an old woman, Mr. Freeman—well—Edgar, if you wish it. I don't think perhaps there is anything unmaidenly in my using your Christian name. We've known each other a great many years now, as you say."
"We have indeed, my dear lady. And we might have known each other a great deal better if—if—well, if you had only seen your way to it. But there—that's all passed now. And yet——"
"Yes, that's all passed now." And Selina gave a little sigh, yet loud enough for her visitor to hear it, and he moved his chair from the side to the front of the fire as she continued, "Do you know—Edgar—just before you came in I made a discovery—I found something that reached me a day or two before you sailed, and that I had never seen till half an hour ago," and she looked down at her fingers that were playing with the end of the delicate lace fichu she was wearing.
A smile came over her visitor's face, but he only said:
"'Pon my word, Selina, you're a very beautiful woman! I've carried your face in my memory all these years, but I see now how half-blind I must have been."
"You mustn't talk nonsense to an old woman like me. I want to tell you something, and I don't know how to do it."
"Don't try. Let me guess, and you tell me if I'm right."