"Then you're going really to see something!" exclaimed Miss Ormond. "How delightful! Come away directly, Mr. Goring, or you'll spoil everything."
Sir Cyril and Davison looked up from some treasure of Greek art. The conversation was perfunctory, every one's curiosity waiting on Mildred and the crystal.
"Don't you see anything yet, Mrs. Stewart?" asked Miss Ormond at length, impatiently.
"No," replied Mildred, hesitatingly. "At least, not exactly. I see something like rushing water and foam."
"The reflection of clouds overhead," pronounced the Under-Secretary, dogmatically, glancing upward.
"I'm sure it's nothing of the kind," asserted Miss Ormond. "Please go on looking, Mrs. Stewart, and perhaps you'll see a water-spirit."
"Why do you want her to see a water-spirit?" asked Davison, ironically. "In all countries of the world they are reckoned spiteful, treacherous creatures. I was once bitten by one severely, and I have never wanted to see one since."
"Oh, Mr. Davison! Are you serious? What do you mean?" questioned Miss Ormond.
Mrs. Stewart hastily put down the crystal. "I don't want to see one," she said; "I'm afraid it might bring me bad luck, and, besides, I can't wait for it, I've got several calls to make before I go home, and I think there's a storm coming." She shivered. "I'm quite cold."
Miss Ormond said that must be the effect of the crystal, as the afternoon was still oppressively hot.