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“So much for the mesmeric sleep,” said Miss Penelosa.”As regards suggestion, whatever I may suggest Miss Marden will infallibly do, whether it be now or after she has awakened from her trance. Do you demand proof of it?”

“Certainly,” said I.

“You shall have it.”

I saw a smile pass over her face as though an amusing thought had struck her. She stooped and whispered earnestly into her subject’s ear. Agatha, who had been so deaf to me, nodded her head as she listened.

“Awake!” cried Miss Penelosa, with a sharp tap of her crutch upon the floor. The eyes opened, the glazing cleared slowly away, and the soul looked out once more after its strange eclipse.

We went away early. Agatha was none the worse for her strange excursion, but I was nervous and unstrung, unable to listen to or answer the stream of comments which Wilson was pouring out for my benefit. As I bade her goodnight, Miss Penelosa slipped a piece of paper into my hand.

“Pray forgive me,” said she, “if I take means to overcome your scepticism. Open this note at ten o’clock tomorrow morning. It is a little private test.”

I can’t imagine what she means, but there is the note, and it shall be opened as she directs. My head is aching, and I have written enough for tonight. Tomorrow I dare say that what seems so inexplicable will take quite another complexion. I shall not surrender my convictions without a struggle.

March 25. — I am amazed—confounded. It is clear that I must reconsider my opinion upon this matter. But first let me place on record what has occurred:

I had finished breakfast and was looking over some diagrams with which my lecture is to be illustrated when my housekeeper entered to tell me that Agatha was in my study and wished to see me immediately. I glanced at the clock and saw with surprise that it was only half-past nine.

When I entered the room, she was standing on the hearthrug facing me. Something in her pose chilled me and checked the words which were rising to my lips. Her veil was half down, but I could see that she was pale and that her expression was constrained.

“Austin,” she said, “I have come to tell you that our engagement is at an end.”

I staggered. I believe that I literally did stagger. I know that I found myself leaning against the bookcase for support.

“But—but—” I stammered.”This is very sudden, Agatha.”

“Yes, Austin, I have come here to tell you that our engagement is at an end.”

“But surely,” I cried, “you will give me some reason! This is unlike you, Agatha. Tell me how I have been unfortunate enough to offend you.”

“It is all over, Austin.”

“But why? You must be under some delusion, Agatha. Perhaps you have been told some falsehood about me. Or you may have misunderstood something that I have said to you. Only let me know what it is, and a word may set it all right.”

“We must consider it all at an end
.”

“But you left me last night without a hint at any disagreement. What could have occurred in the interval to change you so? It must have been something that happened last night. You have been thinking it over, and you have disapproved of my conduct. Was it the mesmerism? Did you blame me for letting that woman exercise her power over you? You know that at the least sign I should have interfered.”

“It is useless, Austin. All is over.” Her voice was cold and measured, her manner strangely formal and hard. It seemed to me that she was absolutely resolved not to be drawn into any argument or explanation. As for me, I was shaking with agitation, and I turned my face aside, so ashamed was I that she should see my want of control.