With trembling hands the old lady passed a miniature in a small gold frame over to Ralph. He gazed at the picture long and intently, with a flush on his face and something that was very like moisture in his eyes. He was silent for so long that Lady Dashwood felt constrained to speak. "Well?" she asked. "I will try to restrain the natural curiosity of my sex and not ask too many questions. Did you ever see that face before?" "You force me to reply," Ralph said slowly. "You have the advantage over me, Lady Dashwood." "Please do not call me Lady Dashwood. Oh, I am not going to try to force your confidence; that will come to me in time. Only you have not yet replied to my question. I asked you if ever you have seen that face before?" "Many a time and oft," Ralph said. "Is it very like me?" "Like you! It is a speaking likeness. When I came face to face with you today, it required all the seventy years of my social training to keep me from bursting into tears and throwing my arms about your neck. And nobody recognised you! But I forget that forty years have elapsed since my boy was in the midst of us. And now tell me, why do you persist in calling yourself Ralph Darnley?" "I have never been known by any other name," Ralph replied. "Perhaps the time may come some day when I--but we need not discuss that. Please do not think me churlish or wanting in courtesy to you, Lady Dashwood." Lady Dashwood shook her head mournfully. Something like tears stood in her eyes. "I have no right to ask anything," she said. "I forfeited my right years ago. But, unless I am greatly mistaken, you could call me by a sweeter name than Lady Dashwood. My dear boy, I do not wish to pry into your secrets--you could not act in anything but a straightforward manner, I am certain. Your face tells me that. Nearly forty years ago I lost a son like you. How like he was to you I have proved by showing you that miniature. My son left Dashwood Hall vowing that nobody should ever see his face again there, and he kept his word. The blame was mine, and only mine, but I have been terribly punished for my treachery and deceit." "I can hardly believe you guilty of those things, Lady Dashwood." "Oh, but I was. It was the cruellest wrong, and he found me out. From that day to this I have known no happiness. Why do I talk like this to a stranger? I think you can guess. When I saw your face in the cloister the other night it seemed as if God had forgiven my sin and given my son back to me. Is that so?" "This is very painful," Ralph stammered. "Will you trust me and be patient?" "I can be patient. I have been patient for forty years. And your face speaks for you. Go on." "There is little more for me to say," Ralph resumed. "For the present I can tell you nothing. If the son you speak of came back tomorrow not a soul would recognise him but you." "And old Slight," Lady Dashwood said meaningly. "Pray do not forget him."