Airy figures, absolutely bodiless ideas,
and forms of unsubstantial beauty, came and danced before her,
imprinting their momentary footsteps on beams of light. Though she had
some indistinct idea of the method of these optical phenomena, still
the illusion was almost perfect enough to warrant the belief that
her husband possessed sway over the spiritual world. Then again,
when she felt a wish to look forth from her seclusion, immediately, as
if her thoughts were answered, the procession of external existence
flitted across a screen. The scenery and the figures of actual life
were perfectly represented, but with that bewitching, yet
indescribable difference, which always makes a picture, an image, or a
shadow, so much more attractive than the original. When wearied of
this, Aylmer bade her cast her eyes upon a vessel, containing a
quantity of earth. She did so, with little interest at first, but
was soon startled, to perceive the germ of a plant, shooting upward
from the soil. Then came the slender stalk- the leaves gradually
unfolded themselves- and amid them was a perfect and lovely flower.
"It is magical!" cried Georgiana, "I dare not touch it."
"Nay, pluck it," answered Aylmer, "pluck it, and inhale its brief
perfume while you may. The flower will wither in a few moments, and
leave nothing save its brown seed-vessels- but thence may be
perpetuated a race as ephemeral as itself.
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