airs.
"Judge Dudley," continued the Doctor, "I have expressed to you my
opinion that I have a claim upon your daughter. You have denied it.
Or, rather, you have probably conceded in your mind that what I have
done for Agnes creates an obligation, but you are not willing to admit
that on that account I should have the privilege, of selecting her
husband? Do I state the facts clearly?"

"Sufficiently so! Proceed!"

"Very well! I have brought you to this apartment to demonstrate to
you, first, that the obligation is greater than you suspect, and
secondly, that your daughter's fate is entirely in my hands. In fact
that you are powerless to oppose my will."

"I have, perhaps, more determination than you credit me with. It will
be difficult for you to swerve me from my purpose."

"Those men, who have the strongest wills, are the ones most easily
moved. You are as just, as man ever is. When you learn that your
daughter's happiness, after this night, will depend entirely upon her
marriage with Leon, you will yield."

"I certainly would make any sacrifice for the happiness of my
daughter. But I must be convinced."

"You see! Already you are amenable to reason. I will proceed. Judge
Dudley, a while ago I told you something of the present theories
concerning the existence of germs which affect physical life. I also
explained to you, how, by using greater knowledge than has as yet been
generally disseminated, I have succeeded in producing in the person of
your daughter a physically perfect being; one who cannot be attacked
by bodily ailments. I will now unfold to you some theories which are
even more in advance of the thought of to-day. It has long been
conceded that man is a dual creature; that is, there is a material
and, I will say, another side, to every human being. What is that
other side? It is immaterial; it is intangible but nevertheless we
know that it exists. At death there remains everything of the physical
body that existed a moment before. What then has departed? An instant
before death, a muscle will lift a given weight, and a second after,
long before mortification of the flesh could operate to disintegrate
the fibres, we find that one tenth of that weight will suffice to tear
the same muscle. What then is this potential power which has left the
body? For the purposes of the present argument, I shall call it the
psychical side of man. The physical and the psychical, dwelling in
harmonious unison, produces a