William felt relieved when the boys had started upon their pleasure trip, and he was left alone with Alice and Mrs. Millard. The Millards seemed very near to him, and he felt almost as much solicitude for them as for his own family. Alice was glad to be of service to him, and this cheerfulness upon her part was, perhaps, one of the strongest factors in her ability to do good work for him.

Merle was equally desirous of pleasing him, passing willingly at any and all times into the trance state. William had never felt as much pride in his work or the results accruing from it as Merle did, and never had found another "subject" upon whom he could so fully rely. There was no doubt the congeniality of their souls had much to do with the success of their achievements. It gave Merle particular pleasure to know William eclipsed all other demonstrators of mesmeric power, feeling flattered to be chosen by so wise a man as his principal subject.

He never dreaded to pass into the trance state, and had, in so far as it was possible for him to do so, followed the injunctions he had been given at the outset, to try and eliminate all personal opinions, holding no personal prejudices, and offering no resistance.

Not a little of William's prestige depended upon the evidence Merle had given him in the trance condition, and Alice was equally zealous, but had never been used for any public work.

She, also, felt flattered to think the professor should select her to assist him in his investigations instead of Merle, whom she considered to be her superior as a subject, and whose reputation as a subject was as great as the professor's as a demonstrator.

She had no realization of the difference in the kind or nature of the work done through them, nor, indeed, had she ever speculated upon that point.

Mrs. Millard excused herself, leaving William and Alice alone, and he soon placed her in a trance. She said nothing until he questioned her.

"Alice, are you waking?"

"Yes, Professor."

"Can you see my wife? Tell me what she is doing."

"She looks very thoughtful. I do not know whether she is sad or not."

"Why should she be sad?"

"I do not know that she is sad."

"Then why do you speak of it?"

"I do not know."

"Alice, can you read her thoughts? You ought to. Try."

"Ask her to come here. She will be here soon. I feel she will help you more than I can. There she is."

"Alice, I cannot bring her. You ought to know that."

"You must. Ask her."

"Her health will not permit it."

Alice shook her head thoughtfully, then she said: "I want to see her."

"But, Alice, I tell you that she is not in condition—"

"I want to see her. Ask her. Did I not help you to get her? Ask her."

That last assertion alone moved William; he remembered how skeptical he had been when she had advised him to return to Clarissa; she was right then, and he had no reason to question her until he had found her advice to be incorrect, at least once.

The first thought to arise in his mind was "Why did Clarissa come here?" She had sent word to him and Augustus she was ill and could not join them in their morning meal, but she was evidently not too ill to visit comparative strangers, so he had no desire to force his presence upon her, but Alice said she wanted to see her. He remained silent for a while, then said, "If you want to see her, go to her."

The words were scarcely out of his mouth, when Alice arose with closed eyes and walked out of the room. William hardly knew what to do; he wanted to follow her to see what transpired, but his sensitive pride said "She will think you forced the girl to come," and that thought determined his action. He did not move. He waited and waited, still she did not come. What was she doing? Why did they not come to him, knowing he was waiting? Still he waited, too proud to go to them; then he thought that Alice ought not to be controlled so long. As this thought entered his mind, she came into the room, alone.

She looked wan and tired, and walked past him to the place of her entrancement, and, drawing a long sigh as she laid her head back, said "I am going to her tomorrow. She will not come here," then her head drooped wearily. He did not feel he ought to force her further, although he was filled with a jealous longing to know what had transpired.

She said nothing more, although he allowed her to remain in a trance condition for some time. How keen his disappointment at the result of the interview he had looked forward to was, no one save himself would ever know. He hoped Clarissa was as pleased as he was disappointed. He would have liked to know what had passed between them. As he was thinking thus, he felt arms around his neck, drawing him closely and affectionately, and looking up, surprised and astonished, he saw—Clarissa.

She bent over him quickly, and drawing him closer still, and said, "Wake her, William, she must be tired." He would have gone cheerfully, even to his execution, while she held him thus, looking into his eyes with that expression of love. His arms went around her, and he said, almost unconsciously, "Wake, Alice. Alice, are you awake?"

He did not notice her answer, and Alice, feeling confused at seeing them in their fond embrace, at once left the room, without being noticed by either. They were engrossed with their own feelings. Clarissa spoke first.

"William,—she helped me so much. Will you not try to help me be what she says I can be? Do not move, dear. I have not finished yet. I promised her I would tell you how much I loved you, but I cannot keep that promise, for words do not express the full sentiment of the heart. I love you more than words can tell. You know that, even if I am irritable and distant."

"Clarissa, you and I have much to thank Alice for;—how little I realized when I was developing her as a subject, what a flood of happiness she would bring into my life! What did she mean when she said that she was going to see you tomorrow?"

"That is our secret. She is coming to our home. You will entrance her for me and then leave us alone, will you not?"

"With pleasure."

"There is Augustus. Mrs. Millard has invited us to remain and spend the evening. Would you like to?"

"Yes—if you would."

"Then let's go and see what the boys have to say. Before long, William, I will tell you the secret."

It was a happy gathering in Mrs. Millard's house that evening. Each thought the others appeared to the best advantage, and they separated only when Augustus became so tired that, despite his most heroic efforts, his eyes would close. It had been a happy day for him.