It was a chance meeting in a seaside nursing home. But Lily Webster, a pensioner, was in no doubt about what she saw. The bright blue eyes staring back at her across the room were those of the big sister she had last seen in a miserable convent-run orphanage almost three-quarters of a century ago.
By a strange twist of fate the two women, born and brought up in Ireland, had been living within 500 yards of each other after retiring to the Somerset resort of Weston-super-Mare in the 1980s.
Their chance reunion came recently as Lily paid her daily visit to the nursing home that has been caring for her husband.
"Even though she was only 15 the last time I saw her, I knew it was Kate right away," the younger sister said yesterday. "It was her bright blue eyes. I have thought about her for years and I never really gave up hope, but it has been such a shock to find she was living just around the corner."
The sisters - nee Dillon - were born into a family of five girls and three boys in Co Clare before the first World War.
Their mother died of a heart attack when Lily, the youngest in the family, was only three years old. Unable to cope, their sign-writer father sent the three youngest girls to the local orphanage, where they were trained for domestic service.
It is a time Lily remembers with deep sadness. The regime was harsh, with meagre meals of bread and dripping, and canings for children unfortunate enough to wet their beds.
Nuns would wake the children throughout the night in an effort to prevent bed-wetting. And after being called finally at 6 a.m. the children had to scrub unheated corridors with cold water.
"They were very cruel to us when we were very young," Lily recalls. "One of my strongest memories is of never being given a cuddle or told that I was loved. The way we were treated there put me off ever having children of my own."
The sisters were separated in 1924 when Kate, who was then 15, was sent to work as a maid to a family in Kildare. Two years later Lily left Ireland to start a new life in London, where her sister, Eileen, also from the convent, had become a housekeeper.
The two sisters - the only surviving members of the family - lost contact with each other after leaving the orphanage.
Sadly, Kate, now 88, suffers from senile dementia and did not recognise her sister when they met again after 74 years. But Lily is patiently beginning to piece together her story with the help of Carmel, one of Kate's seven children.
"I am absolutely thrilled that they have finally met," Carmel said yesterday. "Lily is a lovely person and I already feel as though I have known her for years. My mother worked hard in Dublin, and with seven children to look after, she never seemed to have the time to find her family again."
Lily's only regret is that she did not meet up with Kate years ago when she was more herself. "But I feel very contented now to know where she is and to be able to see her every day when I visit my husband. I used to feel lonely on my own but now I have found a whole new family to learn all about."