He remembered that every one except his father had said it was a fine portrait, but his father had said it was, "only a fine picture; no portrait of her could be fine." Moved by the recollection, Livingstone opened a drawer and took from a box the daguerreotype of a boy.

He held it in his hand and looked first at it and then at the portraits on the wall.

Yes, it was distinctly like both.

He remembered it used to be said that he was like his father; but his father had always said he was like his mother.

He could now see the resemblance.