'Beautiful Rosalie,
'Meet me to night.
'Do not fail, Rosalie! Sweet! do not fail!'
"Well," he continued, "this is extraordinary. The writing is exactly like mine. I never saw two hands so much alike. Look."
"It is, indeed, like yours, my dear," said Aunt Eleanor.
"Exactly," cried Sylvester, who felt much amazed. "I'll just copy it, and then you will see the resemblance more clearly.—Beautiful Sylvester," he added, copying the note. "No, no, 'Beautiful Sylvester' will not do at all."
"Beautiful Rosalie,
"Meet me to night.
"Do not fail, Rosalie! Sweet! do not fail!"
"There," he continued, having finished the transcript; "look at this, and then look at that."
"I cannot distinguish the slightest difference between them," said Aunt Eleanor.
"Nor can I," returned Sylvester. "See," he added, placing both the copy and the original before the reverend gentleman, who had been watching him with unexampled subtlety. "See, what an extraordinary resemblance there is."
"Resemblance!" echoed the reverend gentleman, who couldn't at all understand this coolness. "They are both alike! The B's are the same, and the R's are the same, and so are the M's, D's, and S's. I can see no difference at all. If I fold this as that has been folded, I'll defy any man alive to tell which is which."
"Try it," said Sylvester. "Fold it in precisely the same manner, and then let us have a look at them."
The reverend gentleman gazed at him for a moment with an expression of doubt mingled with amazement, but as Sylvester met his gaze firmly, he did fold the copy in precisely the same manner, and having done so, exclaimed, "There! Now which is which?"
"I can see that this is the one which I wrote," returned Sylvester, "because the ink is not quite dry, and, therefore, somewhat paler; but were it not for that, I should be utterly unable to tell which of the two had been written by me."
"Then you really did not write them both?"
"Write them both? Certainly not. Of that I know nothing."
"Then all I can say is, it's very remarkable."
"It is remarkable. But is it supposed that the note which I have copied was written by me?"
"Why it looked so much like your hand-writing, my dear," said Aunt Eleanor, mildly, "that we did think it must have been written by you."
"Then let me, my dear aunt, at once undeceive you. The resemblance which it bears to my hand is very striking; but I assure you—I feel that you will believe me—I assure you, upon my honour, that I know nothing whatever about it."
