"The very thing!" Kate exclaimed, sinking upon the divan with a sigh of
relief; "we will have a fine view of the dancers and yet be quite
secluded ourselves."
A minuet was already in progress on the floor, and for a few moments
Kate watched the stately, graceful dance, while Darrell, having adjusted
her wrap lightly about her, seated himself beside her and silently
watched her face with deep content.
Gradually the throbbing in her temples subsided, the nervous tremor
ceased, her color became natural, and she felt quite herself again. She
leaned back against the divan and looked with laughing eyes into
Darrell's face.
"Mr. Darrell, do you believe in hypnotism?" she suddenly inquired.
"In hypnotism? Yes; but not in many of those who claim to practise it.
Most of them are mere impostors. But why do you ask?" he continued,
drawing her head down upon his shoulder and looking playfully into her
eyes; "are you trying to hypnotize me?"
Kate laughed merrily and shook her head. "I'm afraid I wouldn't find you
a good subject," she said; then added, slowly, as her face grew serious: "Do you know, I believe I was hypnotized to-night by that dreadful Mr.
Walcott. He certainly cast a malign spell of some kind over me from the
moment we went on the floor together till he left me."
"Why do you say that?" Darrell asked, quickly; "you know I did not see
you on the floor with him, for Miss Stockton asked me to go with her for
a promenade. We came back just as the waltz had ended and Mr. Walcott
was escorting you to your aunt. I noticed that you seemed greatly
fatigued and excused myself to Miss Stockton and came over at once. What
had happened?"
Kate related what had occurred. "I can't give you any idea of it," she
said, in conclusion; "it seemed unaccountable, but it was simply
dreadful. You know his eyes are nearly always closed in that peculiar
way of his, and really I don't think I had any idea how they looked; but
to-night as he looked at me they were wide open; and, do you know, I
can't describe them, but they looked so soft and melting they were
beautiful, and yet there was something absolutely terrible in their
depths. It seemed some way like looking down into a volcano! And the
worst of it was, they seemed to hold me--I couldn't take my eyes from
his. He was as kind and courteous as could be, I'll admit that, but even
the touch of his fingers made me shiver."
Darrell's face had darkened during Kate's recital, but he controlled his
anger.
"Now, was that due to my own imagination or to some uncanny spell of
his?" Kate insisted.
"To neither wholly, and yet perhaps a little of each," Darrell answered,
lightly, not wishing to alarm her or lead her to attach undue importance
to the occurrence. "I think Mr. Walcott has an abnormal amount of
conceit, and that most of those little mannerisms of his are mainly to
attract attention to himself. He was probably trying to produce some
sort of an impression on your mind, and to that extent he certainly
succeeded, only the impression does not seem to have been as favorable
as he perhaps would have wished. No one but a conceited cad would have
attempted such a thing, and with your supersensitive nature the effect
on you was anything but pleasant, but don't allow yourself to think
about it or be annoyed by it. At the same time I would advise you not to
place yourself in his power or where he could have any advantage of you.
By the way, this is our waltz, is it not?"