Miss Levison began and related all the circumstances in detail of her night visit to her father's room, and her meeting with an appearance which she took to be that of her betrothed husband, but which, on being called by her, instantly vanished.
Lord Arondelle mused for awhile. Miss Levison gazed on him in anxious suspense for a few minutes, and then inquired:
"What do you think of it?"
"My love, if I were a transcendental visionary, I might say, that at the hour you saw my image before you, my thoughts, my mind, my spirit, whatever you choose to call my inner self, was actually with you, and so became visible to you; but—" he paused.
"But—what?" she inquired.
"Not being a transcendentalist or a visionary, I am forced to the conclusion that what you thought you saw, was, really nothing but an optical illusion!"
"You think that?"
"Indeed I do!"
"I assure you, that the image seemed as real, as substantial, and as solid to me then as you do now."
"No doubt of it! Optical illusions always seem very real—perfectly real."