"'How did you come into this compartment? You--you do not possess wings, I suppose? You could not have been here all the time. Will you explain--explain to me? See, I ask you very humbly, for I do not understand. This is the nineteenth century, and these things don't fit in. I'm wearing a Dunlap hat--I've got a copy of the New York _Herald_ in my bag--President Roosevelt is alive, and everything is so very unromantic in the world! Is this real magic? Perhaps I'm filled with hallucinations. Perhaps I'm asleep and dreaming. Perhaps you are not really here--nor I--nor anybody, nor anything!' "The train plunged into a tunnel, and when again it dashed out from the other end the cold wind blew furiously in my face from the farther window. It was wide open; the professor was gone. "'Papa has changed to another compartment,' she said, quietly. 'I think perhaps you were beginning to bore him.' "Her eyes met mine and she smiled. "'Are you very much bewildered?' "I looked at her in silence. She sat very quietly, her hands clasped above her knee, her curly hair glittering to her girdle. A long robe, almost silvery in the twilight, clung to her young figure; her bare feet were thrust deep into a pair of shimmering Eastern slippers. "'When you fled,' she sighed, 'I was asleep and there was no time to lose. I barely had a moment to go to Bombay, to find papa, and return in time to join you. This is an East-Indian costume.' "Still I was silent. "'Are you shocked?' she asked, simply. "'No,' I replied, in a dull voice, 'I'm past that.' "'You are very rude,' she said, with the tears starting to her eyes. "'I do not mean to be. I only wish to go away--away somewhere and find out what my name is.' "'Your name is Harold Kensett.' "'Are you sure?' I asked, eagerly. "'Yes--what troubles you?' "'Is everything plain to you? Are you a sort of prophet and second-sight medium? Is nothing hidden from you?' I asked. "'Nothing,' she faltered. My head ached and I clasped it in my hand. "A sudden change came over her. 'I am human--believe me!' she said, with piteous eagerness. 'Indeed, I do not seem strange to those who understand. You wonder, because you left me at midnight in Antwerp and you wake to find me here. If, because I find myself reincarnated, endowed with senses and capabilities which few at present possess--if I am so made, why should it seem strange? It is all so natural to me. If I appear to you--' "'Appear?' "'Yes--' "'Wilhelmina!' I cried; 'can you vanish?' "'Yes,' she murmured; 'does it seem to you unmaidenly?' "'Great Heaven!' I groaned. "'Don't!' she cried, with tears in her voice--'oh, please don't! Help me to bear it! If you only knew how awful it is to be different from other girls--how mortifying it is to me to be able to vanish--oh, how I hate and detest it all!' "'Don't cry,' I said, looking at her pityingly. "'Oh, dear me!' she sobbed. 'You shudder at the sight of me because I can vanish.' "'I don't!' I cried.