"Still, that is only one doubtful case," I objected.
"There was another, you must remember: his uncle Alfred." "Alfred Le Geyt ?" "No; HE died in his bed, quietly.

Alfred Faskally." "What a memory you have!" I cried, astonished.

"Why, that was before our time--in the days of the Chartist riots!" She smiled a certain curious sibylline smile of hers.

Her earnest face looked prettier than ever.

"I told you I could remember many things that happened before I was born," she answered.