Chapter 2

L'AMIE INCONNUE.

As we entered the breakfast-saloon, the Professor was saying "--and
he had breakfast by himself, early: so he begged you wouldn't wait for
him, my Lady. This way, my Lady," he added, "this way!" And then, with
(as it seemed to me) most superfluous politeness, he flung open the
door of my compartment, and ushered in "--a young and lovely lady!"
I muttered to myself with some bitterness. "And this is, of course,
the opening scene of Vol. I. She is the Heroine. And I am one of those
subordinate characters that only turn up when needed for the
development of her destiny, and whose final appearance is outside the
church, waiting to greet the Happy Pair!"

"Yes, my Lady, change at Fayfield," were the next words I heard
(oh that too obsequious Guard!), "next station but one." And the door
closed, and the lady settled down into her corner, and the monotonous
throb of the engine (making one feel as if the train were some gigantic
monster, whose very circulation we could feel) proclaimed that we were
once more speeding on our way. "The lady had a perfectly formed nose,"
I caught myself saying to myself, "hazel eyes, and lips--" and here
it occurred to me that to see, for myself, what "the lady" was really
like, would be more satisfactory than much speculation.

I looked round cautiously, and--was entirely disappointed of my
hope. The veil, which shrouded her whole face, was too thick for me to
see more than the glitter of bright eyes and the hazy outline of what
might be a lovely oval face, but might also, unfortunately, be an
equally unlovely one. I closed my eyes again, saying to myself
"--couldn't have a better chance for an experiment in Telepathy!
I'll think out her face, and afterwards test the portrait with the
original."

At first, no result at all crowned my efforts, though I 'divided my
swift mind,' now hither, now thither, in a way that I felt sure would
have made AEneas green with envy: but the dimly-seen oval remained as
provokingly blank as ever--a mere Ellipse, as if in some mathematical
diagram, without even the Foci that might be made to do duty as a nose
and a mouth. Gradually, however, the conviction came upon me that I
could, by a certain concentration of thought, think the veil away,
and so get a glimpse of the mysterious face--as to which the two
questions, "is she pretty?" and "is she plain?", still hung suspended,
in my mind, in beautiful equipoise.

Success was partial--and fitful--still there was a result: ever and
anon, the veil seemed to vanish, in a sudden flash of light: but,
before I could fully realise the face, all was dark again.