th, has
borne her company.

Dr. Hull said, in closing, that, as probably Miss Ludington would
presume, his particular motive in making bold to break in upon her
privacy was a desire, which he was sure she would not confound with
vulgar curiosity, to see again the young lady who had succeeded to his
friend's earthly life in so wonderful a manner, and to learn, what, if
any, were the later developments in her case. He was preparing a book
upon the subject, in which, of course without giving the true names, he
intended to make the facts of the case known in the world. Its
publication, he felt assured, would mark a new departure in spiritualism.

Miss Ludington read the letter aloud to Ida and Paul, as all three sat
together in the gloaming on the piazza. As Paul from time to time, during
the reading, glanced at Ida he noticed that she kept her face averted.

"I am glad," said Miss Ludington, as she finished the letter, "that Mrs.
Legrand is happy. It is so hard to realize that about the dead. The
feeling that, our happiness was purchased by her death has been the only
cloud upon it. And yet it would be strange indeed if she were not happy.
As she says, she did not die a barren death, but in giving birth. And it
was no tiny infant's existence, of doubtful value, that she exchanged her
life for, but a woman's in the fulness of her youth and beauty. Such a
destiny as hers never fell to a mother before."

"Never before," echoed Paul, rising to his feet in an access of
enthusiasm; "but who shall say that it may not often fall to the lot of
women in the ages to come, as the relations between the worlds of men and
of spirits, become more fully known? The dark and unknown path that Ida
trod that night back to our world will, doubtless, in future times,
become a beaten and lighted way. This woman through whom she lives again
did not die of her own choice; but I do not find it incredible that many
women will hereafter be found willing and eager to die as she did, to
bring back to earth the good, the wise, the heroic, and beloved. The
world will never need to lose its heroes then, for there will never lack
ardent and devoted women to contend for such crowns of motherhood."

He stopped abruptly, for he had observed that Ida's face betrayed acute
distress.

"Forgive me," he said. "You do not like us to talk of this."

"I think I do not," she replied, in a low voice, without looking up. "It
affects me very strangely to think abou