Her purpose in entering the room at this moment was to ask Hilliard whether he had a likeness of himself which he could spare her, as a memento.
"I'm sorry I don't possess such a thing," he answered, laughing, surprised that the woman should care enough about him to make the request.

"But, talking of photographs, would you tell me who this is ?" The album lay beside him, and a feeling of embarrassment, as he saw Mrs.Brewer's look rest upon it, impelled him to the decisive question.
"That?
Oh! that's a friend of my daughter Martha's--Eve Madeley.

I'm sure I don't wonder at you noticing her.

But it doesn't do her justice; she's better looking than that.

It was took better than two years ago--why, just before you came to me, Mr.Hilliard.She was going away--to London." "Eve Madeley." He repeated the name to himself, and liked it.
"She's had a deal of trouble, poor thing," pursued the landlady.