enough in themselves--yet each
a beauty, each a treasure, on _her._ There was all this to behold, all
this to dwell on, in spite of the veil. The veil! how little of the
woman does it hide, when the man really loves her!

We had nearly arrived at the last point to which the omnibus would take
us, when she and her companion got out. I followed them, cautiously and
at some distance.

She was tall--tall at least for a woman. There were not many people in
the road along which we were proceeding; but even if there had been,
far behind as I was walking, I should never have lost her--never have
mistaken any one else for her. Already, strangers though we were, I felt
that I should know her, almost at any distance, only by her walk.

They went on, until we reached a suburb of new houses, intermingled with
wretched patches of waste land, half built over. Unfinished streets,
unfinished crescents, unfinished squares, unfinished shops, unfinished
gardens, surrounded us. At last they stopped at a new square, and rang
the bell at one of the newest of the new houses. The door was opened,
and she and her companion disappeared. The house was partly detached.
It bore no number; but was distinguished as North Villa. The
square--unfinished like everything else in the neighbourhood--was called
Hollyoake Square.

I noticed nothing else about the place at that time. Its newness and
desolateness of appearance revolted me, just then. I had satisfied
myself about the locality of the house, and I knew that it was her home;
for I had approached sufficiently near, when the door was opened, to
hear her inquire if anybody had called in her absence. For the present,
this was enough. My sensations wanted repose; my thoughts wanted
collecting. I left Hollyoake Square at once, and walked into the
Regent's Park, the northern portion of which was close at hand.

Was I in love?--in love with a girl whom I had accidentally met in an
omnibus? Or, was I merely indulging a momentary caprice--merely feeling
a young man's hot, hasty admiration for a beautiful face? These
were questions which I could not then decide. My ideas were in utter
confusion, all my thoughts ran astray. I walked on, dreaming in full
day--I had no distinct impressions, except of the stranger beauty whom
I had just seen. The more I tried to collect myself, to resume the easy,
equable feelings with which I had set forth in the morning, the less
self-possessed I became. There are two emerg