Mr. Pelly read in a slighting, conclusive sort of way:-- "'So now I cannot show you, _Illustrissima_, as I so gladly should have done, how little change has come in the golden hair of my Maddalena, in all these thirty years! Nor the painting of that one well-remembered lock that fell all in ripples on the sunflower brocade upon her bosom----'" Madeline got suddenly up and stood again facing the picture. "Now," she said, "come here and see and be convinced, Mr. Incredulous." And Mr. Pelly came, and stood beside her. "Well, my dear child," said he. "That certainly _does_ look----" "Very like indeed! Doesn't it? But you'll see Pupsey will want to have his own way. He always does!" "Whatever can your father be talking--talking--talking to the General about? Why can't they come in? What on earth can it be?" This is from her ladyship--a semi-aside. She is listening to the talking at a distance. Then Madeline said, "I hope you are convinced, Mr. Pelly," and after one more long look at the picture turned and went to the door, opened it, and listened through it. Her mother said maternally, "Madeline--my dear!" But for all that she stood and listened, as though she heard something. And Mr. Pelly, following her mother's eyes, turned and watched her as she stood. It seemed to him that something like a gasp took her, as though her breath caught with a sudden thrill, visible in her shoulders as her dress was cut, and that her white left arm, that was farthest from the door, caught up tight, and as it were grasped her heart. Her ladyship, looking at her over her shoulder, began, "Why--child--!" and immediately got up and crossed the room to her, saying, "Is anything wrong?" Then, as the girl closed the door and turned round. Mr. Pelly saw that she had gone ashy white, near as white as the clean art-paint on the door she stood by. But she only said, "I shall be all right in a minute." Her mother said, "Come and sit down, darling," which she did; but sat quite still, looking white. "I wish Sir Stopleigh would come," said her mother. Mr. Pelly was frightened, but behaved well, for a little old bachelor. Presently her colour came again, and she said, "It must have been my fancy"; and her mother said, "_What_ must, dear? Do tell us!" But she only said, "How on earth can I have been such a fool?" Then her mother said again, "But what was it, dear?" and she answered uneasily. "Nothing, Mumsey." Her mother and Mr. Pelly looked at one another, puzzled.