"Where have I heard that name before? Oh, I know. I heard Kitty
Maynard telling the story to Mrs. Atherton. Where is she, did you
say, and how does she look?"
"She is with the family who adopted her as their own, for her
mother is dead. Eloise is an orphan, Edith," and again the broad
hand touched the shining hair, pityingly this time, while the
voice which spoke of the mother was sad and low.
Suddenly a strange, fanciful idea flashed on Edith's mind, and
looking into Richard's face she asked, "How old is Eloise?"
"Seventeen, perhaps. Possibly, though, she's older."
"And you, Mr. Harrington--how old are you, please? I'll never tell
as long as I live, if you don't want me to."
She knew he was becoming rather sensitive with regard to his age,
but she thought he would not mind HER knowing, never dreaming that
SHE of all others was the one from whom he would, if possible,
conceal the fact that he was thirty-eight. Still he told her
unreservedly, asking her the while if she did not consider him
almost her grandfather.
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