"That is the picture of Eaton?"
"Yes."
"I thought so."
She tried to assure herself of the shade of the meaning in her father's tone; but she could not. She understood that her recognition of the picture had satisfied him in regard to something over which he had been in doubt; but whether this was to work in favor of Hugh and herself—she thought of herself now inseparably with Hugh—or whether it threatened them, she could not tell.
"Father, what does this mean?" she cried to him.
"What, dear?"
"Your having the picture. Where did you get it?"
Her father made no reply; she repeated it till he granted, "I knew where it might be. I sent for it."
"But—but, Father—" It came to her now that her father must know who Hugh was. "Who—"
"I know who he is now," her father said calmly. "I will tell you when I can."