is Graham, just as I am little Polly, or you are Lucy Snowe."
I thought the same, but I wondered to find my thoughts hers: there are certain things in which we so rarely meet with our double that it seems a miracle when that chance befals.
"You and Graham were once playmates."
"And do you remember that?" she questioned in her turn.
"No doubt he will remember it also," said I.
"I have not asked him: few things would surprise me so much as to find that he did. I suppose his disposition is still gay and careless?"
"Was it so formerly? Did it so strike you? Do you thus remember him?"
"I scarcely remember him in any other light. Sometimes he was studious; sometimes he was merry: but whether busy with his books or disposed for play, it was chiefly the books or game he thought of; not much heeding those with whom he read or amused himself."
"Yet to you he was partial."
"Partial to me? Oh, no! he had other playmates—his school-fellows; I was of little consequence to him, except on Sundays: yes, he was kind
