The invalid and his daughter had entered the automobile when their escort,
in turning toward the other member of the party, saw the woman with the
disfigured face--who was now quite near. Instantly, he paused. And there
was a smile of recognition on his somewhat coarse features as, lifting his
hat, he bowed with--the young man fancied--condescending politeness. The
woman standing by his side with her hand upon the door of the automobile,
seeing her companion saluting some one, turned--and the next moment, the
two women, whose features seemed so like--yet so unlike--were face to
face.
The young man saw the woman with the disfigured face stop short. For an
instant, she stood as though dazed by an unexpected blow. Then, holding
out her hands with a half-pleading, half-groping gesture, she staggered
and would have fallen had he not stepped to her side.
"Permit me, madam; you are ill."
She neither spoke nor moved; but, with her eyes fixed upon the woman by
the automobile, allowed him to support her--seemingly unconscious of his
presence. And never before had the young man seen such anguish of spirit
written in a human countenance.
The one who had saluted her, advanced--as though to offer his services.
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