"He says: 'Some day my child will, I hope, come to you, and say: Cousin Clara, I am Iris Deseret.'" "Iris ?" said Arnold.
"It is her name, Arnold.

It was the child's grandmother's name." "A strange coincidence," he said.

"Pray go on." "'She will say: Cousin Clara, I am Iris Deseret.

Then you will be kind to her, as you would to me, if I were to come home again.' I cannot read any more, my dear, even to you." "Did this American give you any other proof of what he asserts ?" "He gave me a portrait of Claude, taken years ago, when he was a boy of sixteen, and showed me the certificate of marriage, and the child's certificate of baptism, and letters from his wife.

I suppose nothing more can be wanted." "I dare say it is all right, Clara.