"Yes, it is my name. I am Bridgie O'Shaughnessy. Don't you remember me?" "Remember you!" he repeated with an emphasis which was more eloquent than a hundred protestations. He seized her hands in a painful pressure. "You are not married, then? It was not true! You did not marry him as they told me?" "I? You thought I was married! Oh, what put such an idea into your head?" "I heard it eighteen months ago--shortly after your last letter arrived, telling me about your father, and hinting at other changes which might follow. My friend wrote that Miss O'Shaughnessy was engaged to a fellow with a lot of money--Hilliard--that they were going to be married almost at once. Was it all an invention? Was there no truth in it at all?" "It was quite true--quite, but it was Esmeralda, not me! She married him over a year ago." "Esmeralda! your sister--but he said the eldest daughter, and you are the eldest. I knew I was not mistaken about that, for I remember every word you had told me." Bridgie smiled faintly; the colour was coming back into her cheeks, and the grey eyes met his with shy, incredulous happiness. "But most people give her the credit for it, all the same. There's so much more of her, you see. You never wrote to--to ask if it were true?" "I was too proud and hurt, badly hurt, Bridgie--mortally badly! And you never wrote to ask why I was silent. Were you proud too, or contemptuous--which was it? Did you think I was nothing but a flirt, and a heartless one at that?" "I never thought unkindly of you, but I suppose I was proud, for I couldn't write when all the money was gone, and I was so poor. I thought you had forgotten, or met someone else! I hoped you were very happy, only I--wasn't!" faltered Bridgie, with a little break in her voice as she spoke that last word, which brought the tears to the Captain's eyes. He bent his head over the clasped hands, and kissed them a dozen times over. "Bridgie, Bridgie!" he cried brokenly. "Is it true? Have I found you again after all these years? Can you forgive me for this wretched blunder which has brought such unhappiness upon us both? I am thankful to know you were unhappy too, for I had nothing to go on, Bridgie, no claim whatever upon you, only you must have guessed how I felt. I could not believe that you had really given yourself to me in that short time." "I couldn't myself!" said Bridgie naively. "I tried to pretend that it was all a mistake, and that I was quite happy without you." She looked up at him shyly, and shook her head in the most beguiling denial. "'Twas not a mite of use. I remember all the same! And are you sure-- quite sure--that you thought of me all the time? Was there never anyone else all these long, long years?" The Captain smiled and stroked his moustache in amused, contemplative fashion. "There was never anyone, except one girl! I met one girl who quite stole my heart, and I think I stole hers into the bargain."