As she slowly turned her face and looked
at him, he raised his hat, with the nearest approach to respect which a
long life of unblushing audacity had left him capable of making.
"I think I have the honor of addressing the younger Miss Vanstone?" he
began. "Deeply gratified, I am sure--for more reasons than one."
She looked at him with a cold surprise. No recollection of the day when
he had followed her sister and herself on their way home with Miss Garth
rose in her memory, while he now confronted her, with his altered manner
and his altered dress.
"You are mistaken," she said, quietly. "You are a perfect stranger to
me."
"Pardon me," replied the captain; "I am a species of relation. I had the
pleasure of seeing you in the spring of the present year. I presented
myself on that memorable occasion to an honored preceptress in your late
father's family. Permit me, under equally agreeable circumstances, to
present myself to _you_. My name is Wragge."
By this time he had recovered complete possession of his own impudence;
his party-colored eyes twinkled cheerfully, and he accompanied his
modest announcement of himself with a dancing-master's bow.
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