Half an hour later the others came in, and Leo heard Victor's voice in the hall with a feeling of distaste. She had gone out to him during that moonlit walk, and was suffering now a natural revulsion. It had not been love; it had been (she admitted) only physical attraction, and the fault, the weakness, had been hers. His presuming upon her moment of compliance was of the nature of man. It had frightened her to discover such deeps within herself. "We are all animals at bottom," she charged, in the unnatural cynicism of youth. Notwithstanding this mood, she clothed herself handsomely in a gown which lent beauty to the exceedingly dignified role she designed to play, and so costumed went to her aunt's room to hear the news. Mrs. Joyce was lying down, and her voice sounded tired as she said: "We were ordered out of the house at three, and have been driving ever since. Alexander, so Marie says, has had strange men working all the afternoon on some contrivance in his study. Evidently he is going to be very scientific." Leo exclaimed with delight. "Now we'll see if these faces and forms are real or not." "Why, Leo! Do you doubt?" "Yes, deep in my heart I do. I cannot quite free myself from the belief that in some way Lucy produces all these effects." "Of course she transmits them. She's a medium." "I don't mean it that way--and I don't mean that she cheats; but somehow I never feel as if anything real came to me direct." Mrs. Joyce did not feel able to pursue this line of argument. "What's the matter between you and Victor?" "Who told you anything was the matter?" "I sensed it." "Well, why didn't you sense the cause?" "He's a nice boy; you mustn't ill-treat him, Leo." "Your solicitude is misplaced; you should be concerned about me." "You? Trust you to take care of yourself! I never knew a more self-sufficient young person. I am only waiting for some man to teach you your place." This was a frequent subject of very plain though jocular allusion between them. "A man may--some time--but not a rowdy boy. How does Lucy take the promise of a test?" "Very calmly. She is relying wholly on her 'band' to protect her. She feels the importance of the trial, and does not shrink from it." The Miss Wood whom Victor met as he entered the dining-room that night was precisely the young lady he had first seen, a calm, smiling, superior person who looked down upon him with good-humored tolerance of his youth and sex, putting him into the position of the bad little boy who has promised not to do so again. She not merely loftily forgave him, she had apparently minimized the offense, and this hurt worst of all. "I'm sorry not to have been able to work to-day," she said; "but I really had to go to town."