the cheerless platformwith a lady seated on it, and the whole forgotten scene flashed upon me as vividly as if it were happening over again.
"Yes," I thought. "This bare platform is, for me, rich with the memory of a dear friend! She was sitting on that very bench, and invited me to share it, with some quotation from ShakespeareI forget what. I'll try the Earl's plan for the Dramatisation of Life, and fancy that figure to be Lady Muriel; and I won't undeceive myself too soon!"
So I strolled along the platform, resolutely 'making-believe' (as children say) that the casual passenger, seated on that bench, was the Lady Muriel I remembered so well. She was facing away from me, which aided the elaborate cheatery I was practising on myself: but, though I was careful, in passing the spot, to look the other way. In order to prolong the pleasant illusion, it was inevitable that, when I turned to walk back again, I should see who it was. It was Lady Muriel herself!
The whole scene now returned vividly to my memory; and, to make this repetition of
