Seated calmly in this laboratory， the pale philosopherhad investigated the secrets of the highest cloud-region，and of the profoundest mines； he had satisfied himselfof the causes that kindled and kept alive the fires of thevolcano； and had explained the mystery of fountains， andhow it is that they gush forth， some so bright and pure，and others with such rich medicinal virtues， from the darkbosom of the earth. Here， too， at an earlier period， he hadstudied the wonders of the human frame， and attemptedto fathom the very process by which Nature assimilates allher precious influences from earth and air， and from thespiritual world， to create and foster Man， her masterpiece.
The latter pursuit， however， Aylmer had long laid aside，in unwilling recognition of the truth， against which allseekers sooner or later stumble， that our great creativeMother， while she amuses us with apparently workingin the broadest sunshine， is yet severely careful to keepher own secrets， and， in spite of her pretended openness，shows us nothing but results. She permits us indeed tomar， but seldom to mend， and， like a jealous patentee， onno account to make. Now， however， Aylmer resumed thesehalf-forgotten investigations； not， of course， with suchhopes or wishes as first suggested them； but because theyinvolved much physiological truth， and lay in the path ofhis proposed scheme for the treatment of Georgiana.
As he led her over the threshold of the laboratory，Georgiana was cold and tremulous. Aylmer lookedcheerfully into her face， with intent to reassure her，but was so startled with the intense glow of the birthmarkupon the whiteness of her cheek， that he could notrestrain a strong convulsive shudder. His wife fainted.
“Aminadab！ Aminadab！” shouted Aylmer， stampingviolently on the floor.
Forthwith， there issued from an inner apartment a manof low stature， but bulky frame， with shaggy hair hangingabout his visage， which was grimed with the vapors of thefurnace. This personage had been Aylmer’s under-workerduring his whole scientific career， and was admirably fittedfor that office by his great mechanical readiness， and theskill with which， while incapable of comprehending asingle principle， he executed all the practical details of hismastet’s experiments. With his vast strength， his shaggyhair， his smoky aspect， and the indescribable earthinessthat encrusted him， he seemed to represent man’s physicalnature； while Aylmer’s slender figure， and pale， intellectualface， were no less apt a type of the spiritual element.
“Throw open the door of the boudoir， Aminadab，” saidAylmer， “and burn a pastille.”
“Yes， master，” answered Aminadab， looking intently atthe lifeless form of Georgiana； and then he muttered tohimself： — “If she were my wife， I’d never part with thatbirth-mark.”
When Georgiana recovered consciousness， she foundherself breathing an atmosphere of penetrating fragrance，the gentle potency of which had recalled her from herdeathlike faintness. The scene around her looked likeenchantment. Aylmer had converted those smoky， dingy，sombre rooms， where he had spent his brightest years inrecondite pursuits， into a series of beautiful apartments，not unfit to be the secluded abode of a lovely woman. Thewalls were hung with gorgeous curtains， which impartedthe combination of grandeur and grace， that no otherspecies of adornment can achieve； and as they fell fromthe ceiling to the floor， their rich and ponderous folds，concealing all angles and straight lines， appeared to shut inthe scene from infinite space. For aught Georgiana knew，it might be a pavilion among the clouds. And Aylmer，excluding the sunshine， which would have interferedwith his chemical processes， had supplied its place withperfumed lamps， emitting flames of various hue， but alluniting in a soft， empurpled radiance. He now knelt byhis wife’s side， watching her earnestly， but without alarm；for he was confident in his science， and felt that he coulddraw a magic circle round her， within which no evil mightintrude.
“Where am I？ —Ah， I remember！” said Georgiana，faintly； and she placed her hand over her cheek， to hidethe terrible mark from her husband’s eyes.
“Fear not， dearest！” exclaimed he. “Do not shrink fromme！ Believe me， Georgiana， I even rejoice in this singleimperfection， since it will be such a rapture to remove it.”
“Oh， spare me！” sadly replied his wife— “Pray do not lookat it again. I never can forget that convulsive shudder.”
In order to soothe Georgiana， and， as it were， to releaseher mind from the burthen of actual things， Aylmernow put in practice some of the light and playful secretswhich science had taught him among its profounderlore. Airy figures， absolutely bodiless ideas， and formsof unsubstantial beauty， came and danced before her，imprinting their momentary footsteps on beams of light.
Though she had some indistinct idea of the method ofthese optical phenomena， still the illusion was almostperfect enough to warrant the belief that her husbandpossessed 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， theprocession of external existence flitted across a screen.
The scenery and the figures of actual life were perfectlyrepresented， but with that bewitching， yet indescribabledifference， which always makes a picture， an image， or ashadow， so much more attractive than the original. Whenwearied of this， Aylmer bade her cast her eyes upon avessel， containing a quantity of earth. She did so， withlittle interest at first， but was soon startled， to perceivethe germ of a plant， shooting upward from the soil. Thencame the slender stalk—the leaves gradually unfoldedthemselves—and amid them was a perfect and lovelyflower.
“It is magical！” cried Georgiana， “I dare not touch it.”
