"
But Pauline lingered in the hall. Though the twilight had begun to gather,
enough light streamed through the great west window to make the portraits
on the wainscoted walls clearly visible. Pauline went from one to the
other, asking Miss Merivale a question now and then, but really far more
intent on studying the group at the fireplace than the pictures she
appeared to be interested in.
Over the fireplace hung the portrait of Miss Merivale's mother, a sweet,
gentle-eyed woman, very much like Miss Merivale, except that her eyes were
a soft brown instead of a soft blue.
Pauline remarked on the likeness at once. "Except for the dark eyes, it
might be your portrait, Miss Merivale."
Rose had been glancing from the portrait to Rhoda. "Aunt Lucy, your
mother's eyes are exactly the same colour as Miss Sampson's."
Pauline, who was standing by Miss Merivale, felt her start violently. "I
had not noticed, dear," she said, without looking at Rhoda.
"Oh, but they are," Rose went on. "Only Miss Sampson's are shaped a little
differently. And she was named Rhoda, wasn't she, Aunt Lucy? Tom, don't
you see the likeness?"
"I can't say I do, Rosie," said Tom, who considered in his heart of hearts
that Rhoda's long-lashed, sparkling dark eyes were far more beautiful than
the mild brown ones in the portrait.
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