And yet, if her purpose had not been of the most steadfast, she might well have been discouraged.
Lanty and Mabella seemed so securely happy. Vashti was, however, gaining an ascendency over her husband which almost puzzled herself. She had no comprehension whatever of the nature of the power by which she was enabled to cause a deep mesmeric sleep to fall upon him. Nor did she understand in the least how gradually but surely she was disintegrating his will. When his headaches came on now half a dozen gestures of her waving hands were sufficient to induce the hypnoses which brought him forgetfulness. Ignorant of the potency of suggestion she often stood watching him whilst he slept, feeling within her the striving of her dominant will, as of an imprisoned spirit striving to burst the confining bars.
“Come into the study,” said Sidney, as he reached her side. “I have some very bad news.”
“My father?” she said.
“No, Lanty.” She blanched to the tint of the powdery snow. Together they went to the study, and he told her.
Her breath came quickly.
Was the longed-for opportunity to be given into her hands at last?
With all her mental activity she could not yet guess how Lanty’s decadence might yield her the opportunity she craved.
But the position of affairs had seemed so barren of hope for her that any change seemed to make revenge more near.