I never can forget that convulsive shudder."

In order to soothe Georgiana, and, as it were, to release her mind
from the burden of actual things, Aylmer now put in practice some of
the light and playful secrets which science had taught him among its
profounder lore. 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."