"There is nothing," answered the man, in a low, monotonous voice.
"Now speak, and tell me what you see."
"I see a man on horseback; the horse is running away. Now he gallops, and the rider loses control of him; they disappear in a cloud of dust, and I see nothing. Now they return; the horse is going quietly, and the rider looks towards a carriage in which sits a lady; it is Millicent. He enters the carriage; she is weeping, and he touches--" he paused.
Millicent's cheek had grown crimson. She said in a low tone,--
"Why do you not continue?"
"Because you will not let me."
At this moment a light step sounded on the piazza. Millicent turned her head and saw Graham approaching her. She stepped quickly towards him, forgetting Galbraith, the company, everything and everybody, save that her lover had come to her. As she turned from him, Galbraith reeled suddenly, and would have fallen had not Hal steadied him to a seat.
"I fear I am interrupting you," said the artist, in a cool voice, betraying some annoyance.
"Indeed, no," cried the girl, "we were only trying the stupid old game of willing people; I have succeeded in magnetizing Mr. Galbraith here."
By this time the young lawyer had recovered himself, though he looked strangely pale and agitated. He was somewhat overcome by what had gone before, and was not a little troubled by the power which the tall, straight girl had exercised over him. He rebelled against it, and yet the sensation of giving up his volition, and living for the time only by her will and her thought had not been unmixed with a keen pleasure. If no one had witnessed the affair, above all, if Graham had not seen it, he would not have greatly cared; but though he had no recollection of what he had seen and described in Millicent's mind, that evening's experience deepened the vague antipathy he had always felt towards the artist, into a positive dislike.