A distressed look crossed Miss Hamilton's face, and she made a sudden movement, as though she would close the photograph; but on second thoughts she handed it to me.
'Should you like to see it more closely?
It is a photograph of my twin-brother, Eric.

They think--yes, they are afraid that he is dead.' Her lips had turned quite white as she spoke, and in my surprise, for I never knew there had been another brother, I did not answer, but only bent over the picture.
It was the face of a young man about nineteen or twenty,--a beautiful face, that strangely resembled his sister's; the large blue-gray eyes were like hers, but the fair budding moustache scarcely hid the weak, irresolute mouth.

Here the resemblance stopped, for Miss Hamilton's firm lips and finely-curved chin showed no lack of power; but in her brother's face--attractive as it was--there were clearly signs of vacillation.
'Well, what do you think of it ?' she asked, with a quick catch of her breath.
'It is a beautiful face,' I returned, rather hesitating.

'Very striking, too.

One could not easily forget it; and it is strangely like you: but--' 'Yes, I know,'-- taking it out of my hand and closing the carved panels,--'but you think it weak.