"Did you ever hear of Mr. John Parish, Sir?" she demanded.
The suave countenance before her was at first blank, then curious,
then intent. His mind was striving to summon up, from all its many
images, this one which was required. It was a brain which rarely
forgot, even though years had passed; and had it been able to
forget, so much had been the better for the plans of the gentleman
from Kentucky, and for the success of his proposed European mission.
At last, slowly, a faint flush passed over the face she was
regarding so intently. "Yes, I remember him very well," he
replied. "He has not for very many years, been in this country.
He died abroad, some years since. I presume you mean Mr. Parish of
New York--he is the only one I recall of that name at least. Yes;
I knew such a man."
"That was very long ago?"
"It was when I was much younger, my dear Countess."
"You knew him very well, then?"
"I may say that I did, Madam."
"And you'll tell me; then--tell me, was it true that once, as a
wild rumor had it, a rumor that I have heard--that once you two
played at cards--"
"Was that a crime?" he smiled.
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