m be like--like a ticket of leave?"

"I told you you wouldn't understand," said Piers. "You see you've got to
realize what hypnotism is before you can know what it's like. It's really
the art of imposing one's will upon someone else's, of making that other
person see things as you want them to see them--not as they really are.
It's the power of deception carried to a superlative degree. And when
that power is exhausted, the ticket may be said to have expired--and the
prisoner returns to the dungeon. Sometimes he takes the other person with
him. Sometimes he goes alone."

He stopped abruptly as a hand rapped smartly on the door.

Avery looked up again from her work. "Come in!" she said.

"It's the doctor!" whispered Gracie to Piers. "Bother him!"

Piers laughed with his lower lip between his teeth, and Lennox Tudor
opened the door and paused upon the threshold.

Avery rose to receive him, but his look passed her almost instantly and
rested frowningly upon Piers.

"Enter the Lord High Executioner!" said Piers flippantly. "Well? Who is
the latest victim? And what have you come here for?"

The doctor came in. He shook hands with Avery, and turned at once to
Piers.

"I have come to see my patient," he said aggressively.

"Have you?" said Piers. "So have I." He stood up, squaring his broad
shoulders. "And I'm coming again--by special invitation." His dark eyes
flung a gibe with the words.

"Good-bye, Mr. Evesham!" said Avery somewhat pointedly.

He turned sharply, and took her extended hand with elaborate courtesy.

"Good-bye,--Mrs. Denys!" he said.

"I'll come down and see you off," cried Gracie, attaching herself to
his free arm.

"Ah! Wait a bit!" said Piers. "I haven't said good-bye to the Queen of
the fairies yet."

He dropped upon one knee by Jeanie's sofa. Her arm slid round his neck.

"When will you come again?" she whispered.

"When do you hold your next court?" he whispered back.

She smiled, her pale face close to his. "I love to see you--always," she
said. "Come just any time!"

"Shall I?" said Piers.

He was looking straight into the tired, blue eyes, and his own were soft
with a tenderness that must have charmed any child to utter confidence.
She lifted her lips to his. "As often as ever you can," she murmured.

He kissed her. "I will. Good-night, my Queen!"

"Good-night," she answered softly, "dear Sir Galahad!"

Avery had a glimpse of Piers' face as he went away, and she wondered