Indeed, Hartley was not perhaps strictly in his senses; for looking at
the Queen of Sheba as he listened to Major Mercer, his eye fell on a
light female form beside her, so placed as if she desired to be eclipsed
by the bulky form and flowing robes we have described, and to his
extreme astonishment, he recognised the friend of his childhood, the
love of his youth--Menie Gray herself!
To see her in India was in itself astonishing. To see her apparently
under such strange patronage, greatly increased his surprise. To make
his way to her, and address her, seemed the natural and direct mode of
satisfying the feelings which her appearance excited.
His impetuosity was, however, checked, when, advancing close upon Miss
Gray and her companion, he observed that the former, though she looked
at him, exhibited not the slightest token of recognition, unless he
could interpret as such, that she slightly touched her upper lip with
her fore-finger, which, if it happened otherwise than by mere accident,
might be construed to mean, "Do not speak to me just now." Hartley,
adopting such an interpretation, stood stock still, blushing deeply; for
he was aware that he made for the moment but a silly figure.
He was the rather convinced of this, when, with a voice which in the
force of its accents corresponded with her commanding air, Mrs.
Montreville addressed him in English, which savoured slightly of a Swiss
patois,--"You have come to us very fast, sir, to say nothing at all.
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