Carter, deferentially, "over and over
again."
"What!" said her father, loudly. "Look again."
"If I looked all night it wouldn't make any difference," said the
disappointed Miss Evans. "The idea of making such a mistake!"
"We're all liable to mistakes," said Mr. Carter, magnanimously, "even the
best of us."
"You take a good look at him," urged her brother, "and don't forget that
it's four years since you saw him. Isn't that Bert's nose?"
"No," said the girl, glancing at the feature in question, "not a bit like
it. Bert had a beautiful nose."
"Look at his eyes," said Jim.
Miss Evans looked, and meeting Mr. Carter's steady gaze tossed her head
scornfully and endeavored to stare him down. Realizing too late the
magnitude of the task, but unwilling to accept defeat, she stood
confronting him with indignant eyes.
"Well?" said Mr. Evans, misunderstanding.
"Not a bit like," said his daughter, turning thank-fully. "And if you
don't like Bert, you needn't insult him."
She sat down with her back towards Mr. Carter and looked out at the
window.
"Well, I could ha' sworn it was Bert Simmons," said the discomfited Mr.
Evans.
"Me, too," said his son. "I'd ha' sworn to him anywhere. It's the most
extraordinary likeness I've ever seen."
He caught his father's eye, and with a jerk of his thumb telegraphed for
instructions as to the disposal of Mr. Carter.
"He can go," said Mr. Evans, with an attempt at dignity; "he can go this
time, and I hope that this'll be a lesson to him not to go about looking
like other people.
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