showed his grief at the old Magyar's death by adopting his name and
title; hence it was that he presented himself in St. Petersburg in the
season of 1858 under the high-sounding title of Count Kallash.

An extraordinary coincidence, already described, had brought him face
to face with his sister Anna, whom he had never even heard of in all
the years since her flight. He found her now, poverty-stricken,
prematurely old, almost demented, and, though he had hated her
cordially in days gone by, his pity was aroused by her wretchedness,
and he took her to his home, clothed and fed her, and surrounded her
with such comforts as his bachelor apartment offered.

In the days that followed, every doubt he might have had as to her
identity was dispelled. She talked freely of their early childhood, of
their father's death, of their mother; she even spoke of her brother's
coldness and hostility in terms which drove away the last shadow of
doubt whether she was really his sister. But at first he made no
corresponding revelations, remaining for her only Count Kallash.


XI

THE PHOTOGRAPH ALBUM


Little by little, however, as the poor old woman recovered something
of health and strength, his heart went out toward her. Telling her
only certain incidents of his life, he gradually brought the narrative
back to the period, twenty years before, immediately after their
mother's death, and at last revealed himself to his sister, after