"Well, to be sure," said Mrs. Power, rubbing one hand over another, her
favourite action. "Come, Gwladys, don't cry--don't be silly; as your
sister is here, she will stay with us a week or so. Can you, my dear?"
"Yes," said Valmai, whose clear mind quickly drew its own conclusions
and formed its own plans. "Yes, indeed, I hoped you would ask me to
stay a week or so; but do not think I am come to be dependent on you.
No, I am well off, but I had an intense longing to see my sister; and
having no ties or claims upon me, I made up my mind to find her out
before I settled down into some new life."
Alas, poor human nature! The few words, "I am well off," influenced
Mrs. Besborough Power at once in her reception of the friendless girl.
"Of course, my dear, stay as long as you like. Go upstairs now and
take your things off, and after dinner you shall tell us all your
story."
And arm-in-arm the two girls left the room, "like twin cherries on a
stalk." The resemblance between them was bewildering; every line of
feature, every tone of colouring was the same.
"Let us stand together before this cheval glass," said Gwladys, "and
have a good look at each other. Oh, Valmai, my beloved sister, I feel
as if I had known you all my life, and could never bear to part with
you."
And as they stood side by side before the glass, they were themselves
astonished, puzzled, and amused at the exact likeness of one to the
other. The same broad forehead, in which, at the temples, the blue
veins showed so plainly, the same depth of tenderness in the blue eyes,
the same slender neck, and the same small hands; the only difference
lay in the expression, for over Gwladys's upper lip and half-drooped
eyelids hovered a shade of pride and haughtiness which was absent from
Valmai's countenance.
"Oh, see," she said playfully, "there is a difference--that little pink
mole on my arm. Valmai, you haven't got it."
"No," said Valmai, critically examining her wrist, with rather a
dissatisfied look, "I haven't got that; but in everything else we are
just alike. How lovely you are, Gwladys."
"And you, Valmai, how sweet." And again they embraced each other.
"I have no dress to change for dinner, dear. Do you dress?"
"Oh, only just a little, and I won't at all this evening. How strange
we should both be in mourning, too! Mine is for Mrs. Power's sister.
Who are you wearing black for?"
A hot blush suffused Valmai's face and neck as she answered slowly: "I am not in mourning, but thought black would be nice to travel in. I
generally wear white."