“My father. My mother has often told me that I am very like what he was at my age; but there is a portrait of my grandfather Mapleson at home, which, but for the ancient style of dress, you would believe had been taken for me; the resemblance is every bit as striking as that between Huntress and me.” “Has your father no brothers or sisters?” Gladys asked. Everet Mapleson looked surprised. He knew that she was trying to account in some way for Geoffrey Huntress’ likeness to himself; but, surely, he thought, she must know all about her cousin’s parentage and their connections, and it was a little singular that she should be so persistent in her inquiries regarding the Mapleson genealogy. “No,” he replied; “my father was an only son. He had a sister, but she died while very young. The only other connections that I know anything about were an uncle who made my father his heir, and a distant cousin—a very eccentric sort of person. Both, however, are long since dead, and both died single. The Mapleson family was never a numerous one, and it is now almost extinct. I see, Miss Huntress,” he added, with a slight smile in which Gladys thought she detected something of scorn, “that you are trying to account for this resemblance upon natural principles; but it is simply impossible that we are in any way connected. The fact can only be attributable to a strange freak of nature.” “Possibly,” Gladys returned, thoughtfully, and yet she was impressed that there was more in it than Mr. Mapleson appeared willing to allow. She did not feel well enough acquainted with him to speak of the mystery surrounding Geoffrey’s parentage and his early life. It is doubtful if she would have told him, under any circumstances, because of Geoffrey’s sensitiveness upon the subject, still she was strangely impressed by their resemblance. The evening was one of keen enjoyment to Everet Mapleson, and when at length Gladys withdrew with her friends, he accompanied her to the carriage and assisted her to enter. “I have rarely enjoyed a pleasanter evening, Miss Huntress, and I hope we shall meet again before I leave the city,” he said, as he handed her the extra wrap which hung over his arm and stood a moment beside the carriage door. “Then come and call upon us, Mr. Mapleson; the young ladies will be together for a few days longer,” said Mrs. Loring, who had overheard this remark; and having learned from some source that he belonged to one of the F. F. V’s, she was anxious to cultivate his acquaintance for Addie’s sake. CHAPTER XI. MARGERY. Everet Mapleson availed himself of Mrs. Loring’s invitation, and called the second morning after Mrs. Brevort’s reception, to pay his respects to the young ladies. He was fortunate enough to find them both at home, and both were charmingly entertaining. Addie Loring was a merry little body, and no one could ever be dull when in her society.