The sensation with which she had watched his devotion to Ida during the past weeks had been a sort of double-consciousness as if it were herself whom Paul was wooing, although at the same time she was a spectator.

The thoughts and emotions which she ascribed to Ida agitated her almost as if they had been experienced in her proper person.
It was a fancy of hers that between herself and Ida there existed a species of clairvoyance, which enabled her to know what was passing in the latter's mind--a completeness of rapport never realized between any other two minds, but nothing more than might be expected to attend such a relationship as theirs, being a foretaste of the tie that joins the several souls of an individual in heaven.

She had never had a serious love affair in her life, but now, in her old age, she was passing through a genuine experience of the tender passion through her sympathetic identification with Ida.
As she sat in her chamber after Paul had gone, fancying herself in Ida's place, imagining what she would hear him say, what would be her feelings, and what she would answer, her cheeks flushed, her breath came quickly, and there was a dew like that of dreaming girlhood in her faded eyes.
She was still flushing and trembling when there came a soft knock on her door, and Paul and Ida stood before her.
Ida was blushing deeply, with downcast face, and the long lashes hid her eyes.

She stood slightly bending forward, her long beautifully moulded arms hanging straight down before her.

She looked like a beautiful captive, and Paul, as he clasped her waist with his arm, and held one of her hands in his, looked the proudest of conquerors.
"I did not know but I might be dreaming it," he said, "and so I brought her for you to see.