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In another minute he was laughing at these melodramatic fancies. The doctor
held open the door of a room and they passed in. On the white bed, bandages
round her head, lay the girl. Somehow the whole scene seemed unreal. It was so
exactly what one expected that it gave the effect of being beautifully staged.
The girl looked from one to the other of them with large wondering eyes. Sir
James spoke first.
"Miss Finn," he said, "this is your cousin, Mr. Julius P. Hersheimmer."
A faint flush flitted over the girl's face, as Julius stepped forward and took her
hand.
"
How do, Cousin Jane?" he said lightly.
But Tommy caught the tremor in his voice.
Are you really Uncle Hiram's son?" she asked wonderingly.
"
Her voice, with the slight warmth of the Western accent, had an almost thrilling
quality. It seemed vaguely familiar to Tommy, but he thrust the impression aside
as impossible.
"Sure thing."
"
We used to read about Uncle Hiram in the papers," continued the girl, in her low
soft tones. "But I never thought I'd meet you one day. Mother figured it out that
Uncle Hiram would never get over being mad with her."
"
The old man was like that," admitted Julius. "But I guess the new generation's
sort of different. Got no use for the family feud business. First thing I thought
about, soon as the war was over, was to come along and hunt you up."
A shadow passed over the girl's face.
"
They've been telling me things--dreadful things--that my memory went, and that
there are years I shall never know about--years lost out of my life."
"You didn't realize that yourself?"
The girl's eyes opened wide.
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