CHAPTER XIX.

It was the face she had seen in the miniature, changed from childhood to youth. The same blue eyes, frank, confiding, and womanish--the same golden hair clustering in short curls, instead of falling on the shoulders as in the picture--the same smiling mouth, with its little touch of weakness about the under lip. A taking, a pretty rather than a handsome face; it ought to have belonged rather to a girl than a boy. Stella stared, and doubted the evidence of her senses. Her dream flashed across her mind and made her h…