iful for her to fully
realize.

When Paul brought word that Mrs. Legrand was sick and might die, and that
if she died that first vision of Ida might also prove the last to be
vouchsafed them on earth, although she was deeply grieved, yet the
thought did not seem so intolerable to her as to him. She had, indeed,
hoped that from time to time she should see Ida again; still, her life
was mostly past, and it was chiefly upon the communion they would enjoy
in heaven, not momentary and imperfect as here, but perennial and
complete, that her heart was set.

Very different was it with Paul. He was young; heaven was very far off,
and the way thither, unless cheered by occasional visitations of his
radiant mistress, seemed inexpressibly long and dreary. The nature of his
sentiment for Ida had changed since he had seen her clothed in a living
form, from the worship of a sweet but dim ideal to the passion which a
living woman inspires. He thought of her no more as a spirit, lofty and
serene, but as a beautiful maiden with the love-light in her eyes.

He was not able to find his former inspiration in the picture above the
fireplace. Its still enchantment was gone. The set smile, that had ever
before seemed so sweet, palled upon him. The eyes, that had always been
so tender, now lacked expression. The lips that the boy had climbed up to
kiss, how had the artist failed to intimate their exquisite curves! The
whole picture had suffered a subtle deterioration, and looked hard,
wooden, lifeless, and almost, unlike. The living woman had eclipsed the
portrait. Fortunate it is for the fame of painters that their originals
do not oftener return to earth.

If Mrs. Legrand had been his own mother Paul could not have been more
assiduous in his calls and inquiries as to her condition, nor could his
relief have been greater when, a few days later, Dr. Hull told him that
the case had taken a favourable turn, and according to her previous
experience with such attacks, she would probably be as well as usual by
the following day. Dr. Hull said that she had heard of Paul's frequent
inquiries for her, and while she did not flatter herself that his
interest in her was wholly on her own account, she was, nevertheless, so
far grateful that she would give him the first seance which she was able
to hold, and that would be, if she continued to improve, on the following
evening.

CHAPTER VIII.

If Miss Ludington's desire for another glimpse o