But Mr. Tremain was not heeding her. Once again he was overwhelmed and confused as the strange spell of this woman's personality crept over him. He could have sworn the voice was Patricia's, just as the face of his vision had been Patricia's! Was he always to be haunted by this strange dual resemblance--which was no resemblance--between the Patricia of his youth, and this incomprehensible, mysterious stranger? If the voice was the voice of Mdlle. Lamien, why should it affect him so strongly, or why should it seem but the fitting adjunct to the face of his vision, since that vision wore the semblance of Patricia? "But whether she came as a faint perfume, Or whether a spirit in stole of white, I feel, as I pass from the darkened room, She has been with my soul to-night!" CHAPTER VIII. AN ARRIVAL AND A MEETING. When Mr. Tremain entered the drawing-room later in the evening, he was at once conscious of Patricia's presence. It did not require the practical use of his eyes to assure himself of the fact, for to him the room and the company were permeated with her personality. It had always been so with Patricia. When she entered an assembly she drew to herself all the light and vivacity and beauty of the scene; and the homage which was always immediately accorded her, seemed but a fitting tribute to her fascinations. Other women, by far more beautiful, paled before the witchery of her face; other wits, whose slightest expression was a _bon-mot_, faded into insignificance when she entered the lists. And yet she was neither very beautiful, nor very _spirituelle_; but she possessed in a rare degree that nameless _something_, that charm of presence, of voice, of manner, which is unconquerable because intangible, and against which it is worse than useless to resist. It is a dangerous attribute, and heavy is the responsibility of those who possess it; it may lead them and others to the highest feats of heroic sacrifice, and it may doom them to the lowest depths of the woe that is eternal. Philip, as he crossed the room, looked not so much for Patricia herself, but rather to where the black coats gathered thickest, and the tinkling sound of gay laughter and careless _persiflage_ waxed loudest; there he knew he should find Miss Hildreth, for was she not the candle about which the silly moths gathered eagerly, glad to singe their humble wings, or even spend their lives, if only once the flame of her brilliancy might rest upon them, and lift them for a moment from the dull round of commonplace?