"I have it on good authority, that the young lady
in question is invariably out of sight, and not to be traced, even by
her own family, at the hours when the Veiled Lady is before the
public; nor can any satisfactory explanation be given of her
disappearance. And just look at the thing: Her brother is a young
fellow of spirit. He cannot but be aware of these rumors in
reference to his sister. Why, then, does he not come forward to
defend her character, unless he is conscious that an investigation
would only make the matter worse?"
It is essential to the purposes of my legend to distinguish one of
these young gentlemen from his companions; so, for the sake of a soft
and pretty name (such as we of the literary sisterhood invariably
bestow upon our heroes), I deem it fit to call him Theodore.
"Pshaw!" exclaimed Theodore; "her brother is no such fool! Nobody,
unless his brain be as full of bubbles as this wine, can seriously
think of crediting that ridiculous rumor. Why, if my senses did not
play me false (which never was the case yet), I affirm that I saw
that very lady, last evening, at the exhibition, while this veiled
phenomenon was playing off her juggling tricks! What can you say to
that?"
"Oh, it was a spectral illusion that you saw!" replied his friends,
with a general laugh. "The Veiled Lady is quite up to such a thing."
However, as the above-mentioned fable could not hold its ground
against Theodore's downright refutation, they went on to speak of
other stories which the wild babble of the town had set afloat.
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