"Come closer, my boy," said Gregg in a low voice. "You belong to the Quartier, do you not?" "Yes." "Are you English?" "No, an American. I am from Maryland." "From Maryland, you say!" exclaimed Adam with a sudden start, closing his sketch-book and slipping it into his pocket. The name always brought with it a certain rush of blood to his cheek--why, he could never tell. "How long have you been in Paris, my lad?" He had moved back now so that the stranger could find a seat beside him. "Only a few months, sir. I was in London for a time and then came over here. I'm working at Julian's"--and the young fellow squeezed himself into the chair Adam had pulled out for him. "Are you from one of the cities?" "No, from Montgomery County, sir." "That's next to Frederick, isn't it?" "Yes, sir." Both question and answer set his pulses to beating. Instantly there rushed into his mind the picture he never forgot--the figure in white standing at the head of the porch steps. He recalled the long curl that lay next her throat, the light in her eyes, the warm pressure of her hand; the wealth of bursting blossoms, their perfume filling the spring air. How many years had passed since he had ridden through those Maryland orchards! For some minutes Adam sat perfectly still, his eyes fixed on the line of trees fringing the parapet of the Seine. The boy kept silent; it was for the older man to speak first again. Soon an overwhelming, irresistible desire to break through the reserve of years surged over the painter. He could ask this lad questions he had never asked any one before--not that he had ever had an opportunity, for he had seen no one who knew, and he had determined never to write. Here was his chance. "Perhaps you can tell me about some of the old residents. I visited your part of the State many years ago--in the spring, I remember--and met a few of the people. What has become of Major Dorsey, Mr. Talbot and"--there was a slight pause--"and Judge Colton?" "I don't know, sir. I've heard my father speak of them, but I never saw any of them except Judge Colton. He used to stay at our house when he held court. He lived up in Frederick County--a thin, solemn-looking man, with white hair. He's dead now." Gregg's fingers tightened convulsively. "Judge Colton dead! Are you sure?" "Yes--died the week I left home. Father went up to his funeral. He rode in the carriage with Mrs. Colton, he told us when he came home. They're pretty poor up there, too; the Judge lost all his money, I heard."