He remembered that he was Mr.Forbes's secretary now, and that Mr.Forbes might want him.

He was not yet thoroughly rested, but night was approaching and he reflected that he could obtain all the sleep that he needed then.
So, greatly refreshed, and in a quieter mood than he had been for days, the young man dressed and entered the hall to find his way downstairs.
It happened that Beth, whose room was near this rear corridor, had just gone there to dress for dinner, and as she was closing her door she heard a wild, impassioned cry: "Lucy!" Quickly she sprang out into the hall and turned the corner in time to see a strange tableau.
Young Gates was standing with his arms outstretched toward Eliza Parsons, who, a few paces away, had her back to the door of her own chamber, from which she had evidently just stepped.

She stood motionless, looking curiously at the youth who confronted her.
"Lucy! don't you know me ?" he asked, his voice trembling with emotion.
"To begin with," said the girl, composedly, "my name happens to be Eliza.

And as we've not been properly introduced I really don't see why I should know you," she added, with a light laugh.
Tom Gates shrank away from her as if he had been struck.
"You can't be Lucy!" he murmured.

"And yet--and yet--oh, you _must_ be Lucy! You must know me! Look at me, dear--I'm Tom.