"As a proof, I like you none the worse for the misanthropic pleasure you take in extinguishing the candle in the magic-lantern of fancy--at the moment when the panoramic reflections most delight me. But respecting this apparition--here is no illusion; for I have found out who she is." He smoked in silence. "Her name is Mrs. Fraser. She is a widow. She lives in that house yonder, where the light shines through the trees. I have only seen her once, and the circumstances of that meeting may have served to exaggerate my impression of her. But the recollection I carried away with me is that of a woman of a beauty whose mysteriousness defies description." "If you desire to be disenchanted, Mr. Thorburn, you should get to know her." "I should be happy to risk my idealism; but how am I to procure an introduction? Her house is a cloister--she a nun, secret and exclusive as the austerest of the flannelled sisterhood." "Were we in Italy, I should advise you to serenade her. There love is studied as a fine art. It is different here. Yet were I in your straits--for, Mr. Thorburn, are you not in love with this beautiful phantom of yours?" "I confess it." "If I were in your straits, I say, I should do something hardy; go to her home, procure admittance at any sacrifice of politeness, and leave the rest to chance." "That would be practicable to a man with a temperate pulse and trained nerves," I replied; "but I believe I could much more easily jump off the cliff than place myself in the position you suggest." "But you say you met her, Sir. Did she not see you?" "No. She stood some yards from me tranquil and statuesque, quite unconscious of my presence--_that_ I could swear." "Surely she must have seen you--the moon, you said, was bright." "She did _not_ see me. It is true I uttered an exclamation of surprise when I found her so close to me; for I thought she had vanished. She may have heard that cry." "But what should this lady be doing in the fields at two o'clock in the morning?" he asked, with a light smile. "That is precisely what I wish to know." He slowly filled another pipe, with his lips moving as though in the process of rehearsal. "Mr. Thorburn," said he, "I am sure you will excuse my freedom. I really think you should banish this subject from your mind. You have settled here for the purpose of prosecuting a good and lofty purpose, and you should suffer nothing to seduce you from devoting your whole energies to its accomplishment. No man can serve two mistresses. And knowledge, Sir, let me assure you, is a mistress who, if she does not receive your whole heart, will give you little in return."