knew vaguely that she was thinking of me. But how she read my
thought so exactly I could not tell.

That knowledge it has been my fate to gain.

CHAPTER II.

A STRANGE EXPERIMENT.

Soon after my arrival in London, I called on Brande, at the address he
had given me in Brook Street. He received me with the pleasant
affability which a man of the world easily assumes, and his apology for
being unable to pass the evening with me in his own house was a model of
social style. The difficulty in the way was practically an
impossibility. His Society had a meeting on that evening, and it was
imperative that he should be present.

"Why not come yourself?" he said. "It is what we might call a guest
night. That is, visitors, if friends of members, are admitted, and as
this privilege may not be again accorded to outsiders, you ought to come
before you decide finally to join us. I must go now, but Natalie" (he
did not say "Miss Brande") "will entertain you and bring you to the
hall. It is very near--in Hanover Square."

"I shall be very glad indeed to bring Miss Brande to the hall," I
answered, changing the sentence in order to correct Brande's too
patronising phrase.

"The same thing in different words, is it not? If you prefer it that
way, please have it so." His imperturbability was unaffected.

Miss Brande here entered the room. Her brother, with a word of renewed
apology, left us, and presently I saw him cross the street and hail a
passing hansom.

"You must not blame him for running off," Miss Brande said. "He has much
to think of, and the Society depends almost wholly on himself."

I stammered out that I did not blame him at all, and indeed my
disclaimer was absolutely true. Brande could not have pleased me better
than he had done by relieving us of his company.

Miss Brande made tea, which I pretended to enjoy in the hope of pleasing
her. Over this we talked more like old and well proven friends than mere
acquaintances of ten days' standing. Just once or twice the mysterious
chord which marred the girl's charming conversation was touched. She
immediately changed the subject on observing my distress. I say
distress, for a weaker word would not fittingly describe the emotion I
felt whenever she blundered into the pseudo-scientific nonsense which
was her brother's favourite affectation. At least, it seemed nonsense to
me. I could not well foresee then that the theses which appeared to be
mere theoretical abs