We ate and drank in silence for some little time, and I
found that I was very hungry. I also found that I could not conjure up
any real feeling of discomfort or uneasiness, and that the prospective
scolding from Miss Hallam had no terrors in it for me. Never had I felt
so serene in mind, never more at ease in every way, than now. I felt
that this was wrong--bohemian, irregular, and not respectable, and tried
to get up a little unhappiness about something. The only thing that I
could think of was:

"I am afraid I am taking up your time. Perhaps you had some business
which you were going to when you met me."

"My business, when I met you, was to catch the train to Elberthal, which
was already gone, as you know. I shall not be able to fulfill my
engagements for to-night, so it really does not matter. I am enjoying
myself very much."

"I am very glad I did meet you," said I, growing more reassured as I
found that my companion, though exceedingly polite and attentive to me,
did not ask a question as to my business, my traveling companions, my
intended stay or object in Elberthal--that he behaved as a perfect
gentleman--one who is a gentleman throughout, in thought as well as in
deed. He did not even ask me how it was that my friends had not waited a
little for me, though he must have wondered why two people left a young
girl, moneyless and ignorant, to find her way after them as well as she
could. He took me as he found me, and treated me as if I had been the
most distinguished and important of persons. But at my last remark he
said, with the same odd smile which took me by surprise every time I saw
it:

"The pleasure is certainly not all on your side, _mein Fraeulein_. I
suppose from that you have decided that I am to be trusted?"

I stammered out something to the effect that "I should be very
ungrateful were I not satisfied with--with such a--" I stopped, looking
at him in some confusion. I saw a sudden look flash into his eyes and
over his face. It was gone again in a moment--so fleeting that I had
scarce time to mark it, but it opened up a crowd of strange new
impressions to me, and while I could no more have said what it was like
the moment it was gone, yet it left two desires almost equally strong in
me--I wished in one and the same moment that I had for my own peace of
mind never seen him--and that I might never lose sight of him again: to
fly from that look, to remain and encounter it. The tell-tale mirror in
t