making her promise secrecy as to his true name. Thus matters went on
for nearly two years.

The broken-down old woman lived in his rooms in something like
comfort, and took pleasure in dusting and arranging his things. One
day, when she was tidying the sitting room, her brother was startled
by a sudden exclamation, almost a cry, which broke from his sister's
lips.

"Oh, heaven, it is she!" she cried, her eyes fixed on a page of the
photograph album she had been dusting. "Brother, come here; for
heaven's sake, who is this?"

"Baroness von Döring," curtly answered Kallash, glancing quickly at
the photograph. "What do you find interesting in her?"

"It is either she or her double! Do you know who she looks like?"

"Lord only knows! Herself, perhaps!"

"No, she has a double! I am sure of it! Do you remember, at mother's,
my maid Natasha?"

"Natasha?" the count considered, knitting his brows in the effort to
recollect.

"Yes, Natasha, my maid. A tall, fair girl. A thick tress of chestnut
hair. She had such beautiful hair! And her lips had just the same
proud expression. Her eyes were piercing and intelligent, her brows
were clearly marked and joined together--in a word, the very original