His glances, though still respectful, were
fixed, long and searchingly, upon her face. He seemed to study all its
features, comparing them, as it would seem, with his own memories. At
length, as with a sense of maidenly propriety, she sternly turned away,
he addressed her:--
"Miss Colleton has forgotten me, it appears, though I have some claim to
be an old acquaintance. I, at least, have a better memory for my
friends--I have not forgotten _her_."
Edith looked up in astonishment, but there was no recognition in her
glance. A feeling of mortified pride might have been detected in the
expression of his countenance, as, with a tone of calm unconsciousness,
she replied--
"You are certainly unremembered, if ever known, by me, sir. I am truly
sorry to have forgotten one who styles himself my friend."
"Who was--who is--or, rather, who is now willing again to be your
friend, Miss Colleton," was the immediate reply.
"Yes, and so I will gladly call you, sir, if you succeed in what you
have promised.
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