"There was some talk about what was called 'mesmerism' among Beardsley's followers. He had nothing to do with it, I think. I do not believe in one man controlling another to the extent you speak of. If it can happen, it is so rare as not to be worth thought." She sat silently thinking. And he was egotistic enough to suppose that the unkindness of mentioning his wife might now occur to her! But when she spoke again he saw that she was only absorbed in her own thoughts. "I suppose you are right." She sighed. He said, "I am surprised to find your former life and mine have ever touched so nearly as that we should have taken interest in the same man. He was not a public medium--only known to a very few people. I spoke of his seeing ghosts only because I wanted an opportunity to ask you if you were frightened of ghosts." "Oh, no; I am not. I have been better taught than that. Why should you ask?" "I see I should be ashamed of asking such a question." "Ah! I understand. I talk so wildly at times, I have been so foolishly, childishly talkative, that you think me capable of any folly. You cannot despise me as I despise myself; but--oh, Mr. Durgan--at times I am very unhappy. If I were not terribly afraid to die, my greatest fear would sometimes be that I should live another day. It is not melodrama; it is not hysterics; it is the plain, sober truth; but I am sorry that I have let you know it." Then, saying good-night, she added, "I have the best sister in the world. I want to live bravely and be happy for her sake; and you can best help me by forgetting what I have said and done. I had the best father in the world: by the memory of your lost daughter, help me to be worthy of him." Chapter XIII A SOB IN THE DARK When Durgan had said good-night to the sisters, he made the warm moonlight night an excuse for wandering. He sat down a little way off, able to watch the lights in the house, and also the stunted oak into whose keeping he had seen Miss Smith confide something. He felt pretty sure that, as soon as the house was shut up for the night, the dogs as usual within, 'Dolphus would appear to take money from the tree. The house was closed; the curtained windows ceased to glow; but no one climbed the tree. The oaks were on rocky, windy ground, the old trees gnarled and conspicuous above the denser growth of low shrub. The thought of spying on any of Miss Smith's plans was revolting; his only wish was to see that the negro did not approach the house. He felt at last compelled to descend to this tree, to be sure that no one lurked near it. He had marked it by a peculiar fork in its upper part, but he lost sight of this fork on entering the thin wood, and moved about carefully for some time before he found it, and then no one was to be seen. He stood nonplused, wondering how long he ought to guard the house.