course it's rather long, but all the while they have been engaged. It's a true, true love," said Mrs. Steuben, who had a little flute-like way of sounding the adjective.
"Is his name Mr. Bellamy?" Vogelstein asked, with his haunting reminiscence. "D. F. Bellamy, eh? And has he been in a store?"
"I don't know what kind of business it was: it was some kind of business, in Utica. I think he had a branch in New York. He is one of the leading gentlemen of Utica, and very highly educated. He's a good deal older than Miss Day. He's a very fine man. He stands very high in Utica. I don't know why you look as if you doubted it."
Vogelstein assured Mrs. Steuben that he doubted nothing, and indeed what she told him struck him as all the more credible as it seemed to him eminently strange. Bellamy had been the name of the gentleman who, a year and a half before, was to have met Pandora on the arrival of the German steamer; it was in Bellamy's name that she had addressed herself with such effusion to Bellamy's friend, the man in the straw hat, who was about to fumble in her mother's old clothes. This was a fact which seemed to Vogelstein to finish the picture of her contradictions; it wanted at present no touch to be complete. Yet, even as it hung there before him, it continued to fascinate him, and he stared at it, detached from surrounding things, and feeling a little as if he had been pitched out of an overturned vehicle, till the boat
