age, to use the old phrase, was
stamped on my heart. True! Yet the heart of any young man who had
talked with Rosa twice would in all probability have been similarly
affected. Rosa was not the ordinary pretty and clever girl. She was
such a creature as grows in this world not often in a century. She was
an angel out of Paradise--an angel who might pass across Europe and
leave behind her a trail of broken hearts to mark the transit. And if
angels could sing as she did, then no wonder that the heavenly choirs
were happy in nothing but song. (You are to remember that it was three
o'clock in the morning.) No, the fact that I was already half in love
with Rosa proved nothing.

On the other hand, might not the manner in which she and Alresca had
sought me out be held to prove something? Why should such exalted
personages think twice about a mere student of medicine who had had
the good fortune once to make himself useful at a critical juncture?
Surely, I could argue that here was the hand of Fate.

Rubbish! I was an ass to stand there at that unearthly hour, robbing
myself of sleep in order to pursue such trains of thought. Besides,
supposing that Rosa and myself were, in fact, drawn together by chance
or fate, or whatever you like to call it, had not disaster been
prophesied in that event? It would be best to leave the future alone.
My aim should be to cure Alresca, and then go soberly to Totnes and
join my brother in practice.

I turned down Oxford Street, whose perspective of gas-lamps stretched
east and west to distances apparent infinite, and as I did so I
suddenly knew that some one was standing by the railings opposite,
under the shadow of the great trees. I had been so sure that I was
alone that this discovery startled me a little, and I began to whistle
tunelessly.

I could make out no details of the figure, except that it was a man
who stood there, and to satisfy my curiosity I went across to inspect
him. To my astonishment he was very well, though very quietly,
dressed, and had the appearance of being a gentleman of the highest
distinction. His face was clean-shaven, and I noticed the fine, firm
chin, and the clear, unblinking eyes. He stood quite still, and as I
approached looked me full in the face. It was a terrible gaze, and I
do not mind confessing that, secretly, I quailed under it; there was
malice and a dangerous hate in that gaze. Nevertheless I was young,
careless, and enterprising.

"Can you tell