"How was I--she--dressed?" asked Pamela suddenly.

"Oh, your usual things--what you had on the boat," said Hughie vaguely. 

"Brown shoes and stockings?" Pam demanded.

Hughie thought about it. Then he said he couldn’t see so far.

"But I saw your pigtail hanging down. There was a bit of light on it, and it shone."

Pamela went back to the foot of the bed, and leaned there.

"Look here, Hughie," she said seriously, "if I say a thing you’d believe me, wouldn’t you?"

Hughie gripped his ankles with either small brown hand and gazed back at her thoughtfully.

"I should *believe* you--if you said a true thing," he said.

"Well, I’m going to say a true thing. The girl you saw wasn’t me--I mean, I."

"Oh!" said Hughie, "who was she, then?"

"I don’t know any more than you do, but I’d venture to bet a shilling that she’s the same girl Mollie Shard saw. Don’t you remember when Mollie said she saw *me*, out by Mainsail Cottage on Tuesday morning. Well, I wasn’t."

"Oh," murmured Hughie again--then, "I remember what Mollie said, but why didn’t you say it wasn’t you, Pam?"

"I was thinking about something rather queer that I saw myself; kind of adding them together."

"What did you see yourself?"

Pamela did not answer this question at once, her mind was searching round for points, at last:

"One thing is plain;" she said, "there’s a girl about who looks like me; but goodness knows who she is, or where she comes from. Look here, Hughie, will you keep your eyes open--now you know. I’ll try and follow it up too, and I promise I’ll tell you what I find out even if I don’t tell other people."

"I see. Yes, all right, Pam," agreed the Midget with dignity. As a matter of fact he was really not quite sure whether he did see. It was all rather startling; why should there be a girl exactly like 

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