There flashed across her face a quiver, as though of pain.
"Why do you think," she asked, "that that is my name ?" "Your father, Colonel Fitzmaurice, is one of my best friends," he answered gravely.

"I was at his house yesterday.

I only came up this morning.

I beg your pardon! You are not well!" Every vestige of colour had left her cheeks.

The Baroness touched her foot under the table, and Louise found her voice with an effort.
"How did you know that Colonel Fitzmaurice was my father ?" she asked breathlessly.
"I found a picture in your sister's album," he answered.
The answer seemed somehow to reassure her.