e once more our old selves. No doubt
this is all very unscientific, but so far Science seems to have nothing
to say on the question."

"It certainly has not," commented Lady Thomson, decisively. "I ought to
know what Science is, considering how often I've met Mr. Darwin and
Professor Huxley. Hypnotism and this kind of unpleasant talk is not
Science. It's only a new variety of the hocus-pocus that's been imposing
on human weakness ever since the world began. I'd sooner believe with
poor Milly that she's possessed by a devil. It's less silly to accept
inherited superstitions than to invent brand-new ones."

"But we've got to account somehow for the extraordinary changes which
take place in Milly," sighed Ian, wearily.

The light lines across his forehead were showing as furrows, and Tims's
whole face was corrugated.

"No hocus-pocus about them, anyway," she said.

"There's a great deal of fancy about them," retorted Lady Thomson. "A
nervous, imaginative man like you, Ian, ought to be on your guard
against allowing such notions to get hold of you. It's so easy to fancy
things are as you're afraid they may be, and then you influence Milly
and she goes from bad to worse. I think I may claim to understand her if
any one does, and all I see is that she gives way to moods. At first I
thought it was a steady development of character; but I admit that when
she is unwell and out of spirits, she becomes just her old timid,
over-conscientious self again. She's always been very easily influenced,
very dependent, and now--I hardly like to say such a thing of my own
niece--but I fear there's a touch of hysteria about her. I've always
heard that hysterical people, even when they've been perfectly frank and
truthful before, become deceitful and act parts till it's impossible to
tell fact from falsehood with regard to them. I would suggest your
letting Mildred come to me for a month or two, Ian. I feel sure I should
send her back to you quite cured of all this nonsense."

At this point Milly came in. Ian stretched out his hand towards her with
protective tenderness; but even at the moment when his whole soul was
moved by an impulse of compassion so strong that it seemed almost love,
a spirit within him arose and mocked at all hypotheses, telling him that
this poor stricken wife of his, seemingly one with the lady of his
heart, was not she, but another.

"Aunt Beatrice was just saying you ought to get away from domestic cares
for a