“And why do you fear him?” said her husband, laughing as he bent over and twirled one of her bright curls over his finger. “What do you fear in him?” “I am afraid he will mesmerize me and make me think as he does. There you have my reason for disliking him, and to go to the Lyceum,” said Elinor, flushing slightly. Again her husband laughed. “Ah, that is it. Do you think there would be any harm in that?” “Why, I think it would be dreadful to be hypnotized; to have any one control your will and make you think and do things you would not do otherwise.” “I have an idea,” cried Mr. Wylie; “let me try it on you. Come, look me right in the eyes, relax all your muscles and think of nothing but me.” Mr. Wylie fixed his mischievous dark eyes upon his wife. She closed her own eyes tightly, and turned her face away. “Never! It would make me forever your slave. I have not much will of my own now, and you would take that away from me. No, thank you!” “As if a woman ever lived who did not have her own sweet will and way. But, Nellie, you may call upon Mrs. Lucien to-night, and ask her to accompany us. I shall be curious to know her opinion of the Doctor and his hobby.” “Mne! How kind you are! Man’s curiosity again! Well! I’ll go just to gratify you, but she may not be willing to go to such a place even in your company.” Mr. Wylie smiled indulgently, but made no reply. “Horace, I can almost believe Tibby exercises some such influence over Robbie. It is really remarkable, the ease with which she can subdue him, and put him to sleep at any time she desires. Mrs. Harbeck used to fuss for hours.” “Tibby exercises a power woman has, since the world began—the power of her beauty. Tibby is such a pretty girl, and Robbie is susceptible to it. I remember when I was a youngster, the pretty teachers always had the least trouble with me. Children have aesthetic instincts, and Robbie recognizes the influence, if he does not yet understand it. Dame Harbeck was a good old soul, but she did lack winsomeness. Eh, Nellie?” Mrs. Wylie laughed. “I wonder if that does make a difference.” “Certainly, and is it not a moral duty to cultivate beauty in the race?” CHAPTER IX A NEW DEVELOPMENT True to her promise, Mrs. Wylie called the following afternoon at the small room she had learned to designate as Number Nineteen, and invited Mrs. Lucien to accompany herself and Mr. Wylie to the Lyceum. Mrs. Lucien’s pale face flushed slightly, and an eager, pleased look came for a moment into her eyes, then she shook her head. “You are very kind, Mrs. Wylie, but you forget—that I never go out.”