“Oh!” he said as the face vanished and only his own was left staring up at him, while everything around him began to grow dark and he leaned forward as if about to fall. There was the sound of broken glass as the mirror dropped from his hands and went crashing against the stones to the bottom of the well. “What is it? Are you dizzy? Are you faint?” Irene cried seizing him by the arm and turning him around till his white face looked into hers scarcely less white than his own. “You certainly saw nothing! There was nothing to see; there could be nothing,” she said, and he replied, “No, nothing to see; nothing. It was all imagination. My head has not been right for some days. I grew dizzy, there was a ringing in my ears, and I think I let the mirror fall. Where is it?” “At the bottom of the well, and a good place for it,” Irene said, still holding his arm as they went back to the bench on which she had presumably sat quietly while he tried the charm. “How did you happen to come to me?” he asked, suddenly, without, however, a suspicion of the truth. Irene’s voice was very steady as she answered, “I was sitting here with my eyes shut, as I told you I would, waiting for some sign that you were through and it was my turn to consult the oracle. You were so long that I looked at last and saw you sway a little as if about to fall. Then I ran forward just as you dropped the glass. Didn’t you hear me coming?” She asked the last question with her heart in her throat as she waited for his answer. “I heard nothing but the humming of the hornets. There’s a whole swarm of them buzzing in my ears now,” he said. “Is he crazy?” Irene thought, wondering what her next move should be. She had made her great stroke and succeeded, but felt that to keep alive any superstitious feeling in him would be uphill business. He had seen her face, she was sure, for she had met his eyes fully and seen in them an expression of intense surprise and half terror, as if the sight were not a pleasant one. She must now await developments. He was very white and the perspiration was standing upon his forehead where Irene laid her hand as she said, “I am sorry I insisted upon that foolishness. I might have known it would make one dizzy to look steadily into the reflection of the sun this hot day. “I am glad the mirror is broken. I would not look in it if it were not.” “Never allow yourself to do such a thing. I am sorry I did,” Rex exclaimed. “And it was all my doings,” Irene said. “I hope you will forgive me. Does your head ache very hard?” She still kept her hand upon his forehead and he did not try to shake it off. It was very cold and his head was burning and throbbing with pain. He was in no mood for love making had he been inclined, and Irene knew it and that she must wait. “I think it is time we were going home,” she said at last, as he did not speak, but sat staring in front of him as if still seeing the half face in the glass.