Look at me, Mrs.Holbrook.Have you never seen my face before ?" "Never." "Are you quite sure of that?
Look a little longer before you answer again." "Yes!" she cried suddenly, after a long pause.

"You are my father!" There had come back upon her, in a rapid flash of memory, the picture of a room in Brussels--a room lighted dimly by two wax-candles on the chimney-piece, where there was a tall dark man who snatched her up in his arms and kissed her before he went out.

She remembered caring very little for his kisses, and having a childish consciousness of the fact that it was he who made her mamma cry so often in the quiet lonely evenings, when the mother and child were together in that desolate continental lodging.
Yet at this moment she was scarcely disposed to think much about her father's ill-conduct.

She considered only that he was her father, and that they had found each other after long years of separation.

She stretched out her arms, and would have fallen upon his breast; but something in his manner repelled her, something downcast and nervous, which had a chilling effect upon her, and gave her time to remember how little cause she had to love him.