‘The ship’s number, miss. We’ve told that steamer out yonder who we are, and when she arrives in the river she’ll report us, and our friends’ll learn that all’s well with us so fur. I’ve got half a sort of feeling, d’ye know, as if I’d like to be on board of that steamer going home. I tell you what I miss--I miss my morning noosepaper. I miss reading how things are. And how do _you_ feel this morning, Miss C----? Pretty well, I hope?’ ‘I am feeling very well, this morning, Sir Frederick.’ ‘_That’s_ a good job. What’s life without ‘ealth? You must know I haven’t changed my opinion about you. You’re a Calthorpe, and unless your memory comes back to give me the lie, I’ll go to my grave swearing it. What’s the latest argument against me? They say that if you’re like Lady Loocy Calthorpe _now_, you couldn’t have been like her before you was rescued, because you’re a changed woman from what you was. But who’s to prove that? And what do they mean by change? Fright can turn the hair white, but it don’t alter the colour of the heye, and it don’t alter the shape of the nose, and it don’t alter the appearance of the mouth. _That’s_ where I find my likeness,’ said he, leering at me. And then, with his whimsical cockney English, he told us of a son of a nobleman who, having quarrelled with his father, had shipped as a common sailor on board a vessel, and made his way to Australia. He arrived at a city in Australia, and tried in many ways to get a living: he drove a cab, he wrote for a newspaper, he was a waiter, he worked as a labourer on the quays, he was a billiard-marker at a hotel, and one night, whilst he was scoring for some people who were playing at billiards, a gentleman, who had been staring hard at him said, ‘Are not you the Honourable Mr. ----?’ and he gave him his name. The young fellow changed colour, but denied that he was the Honourable Mr. So-and-so. ‘But the other wasn’t to be put off,’ said Sir Frederick Thompson. ‘“Don’t tell me,”’ says the gent. “I know your brother, and you’re the image of him.” Such a likeness is out of nature unless it’s in the family line, and at last the young fellow owned that he was the Honourable Mr. So-and-so. ‘And now you’ll find,’ said Sir Frederick, ‘that I’ve discovered who you are, just as the Honourable Mr. So-and-so was discovered by a likeness altogether too strong to be in nature unless it’s in the family line.’ The little gentleman then pulled off his hat and left us. ‘Would he persist if he did not feel convinced?’ said I.