But Georgiana had no sooner touched the flower than the whole plant
suffered a blight, its leaves turning coal black as if by the agency
of fire.

"There was too powerful a stimulus," said Aylmer, thoughtfully.

To make up for this abortive experiment, he proposed to take her
portrait by a scientific process of his own invention. It was to be
effected by rays of light striking upon a polished plate of metal.
Georgiana assented; but, on looking at the result, was affrighted to
find the features of the portrait blurred and indefinable; while the
minute figure of a hand appeared where the cheek should have been.
Alymer snatched the metallic plate and threw it into a jar of
corrosive[5] acid.

Soon, however, he forgot these mortifying failures. In the intervals
of study and chemical experiment he came to her flushed and exhausted,
but seemed invigorated by her presence, and spoke in glowing language
of the resources of his art. He gave a history of the long dynasty of
the alchemists, who spent so many ages in quest of the universal
solvent by which the golden principle might be elicited from all
things vile and base, Aylmer appeared to believe that, by the plainest
scientific logic, it was altogether within the limits of possibility
to discover this long-sought medium. "But," he added, "a philosopher
who should go deep enough to acquire the power would attain too lofty
a wisdom to stoop to the exercise of it." Not less singular were his
opinions in regard to the elixir vitae[6]. He more than intimated that
it was at his option to concoct a liquid that should prolong life for
years, perhaps interminably; but that it would produce a discord in
nature which all the world, and chiefly the quaffer of the immortal