r darkness by reason of their own misdeeds or by some singular
chance of their taking off. My friend seems to be able in some way to
free these poor 'earth-bound souls' and send them flying upward to some
heaven. It's all very creepy," I added, warningly.

"Oh, delightful! Let it be _very_ creepy," called Mrs. Quigg.

"To begin with, my friend is as keen-eyed, as level-headed as any woman
I know--the last person in the world to be taken for a 'sensitive.' I
had never suspected it in her; but one night she laughingly admitted
having been 'in the work' at one time, and I begged for a sitting. We
were dining at her house--Jack Ross, a Miss Wilcox, and I, all intimate
friends of hers, and she consented. After sitting a few minutes she
turned to me and said: 'My "guide" is here. Be sure to keep near me;
don't let me fall.' She still spoke smilingly, but I could see she was
in earnest.

"'You see,' she explained, 'I seem to leave the body and to withdraw a
little distance above my chair. From this height I survey my material
self, which seems to be animated by an entirely alien influence.
Sometimes my body is moved by these forces to rise and walk about the
room. In such cases it is necessary for some friend to follow close
behind me, for between the going of "the spirit" and the return of my
"astral self" there lies an appreciable interval when my body is as limp
as an empty sack. I came very near having a bad fall once.'

"'I understand,' said I. 'I'll keep an eye on you.'

"In a few moments a change came over her face. She sank into a curious
negative state between trance and reverie. Her lips parted, and a soft
voice came from them. She spoke to Miss Wilcox, who sat opposite her:
'Sister--I am very happy. I am surrounded by children. It is beautiful
here in the happy valley--warm and golden--and oh, the merry children!'

"Miss Wilcox was deeply moved by this message and for a moment could not
reply. At length she recovered her voice and asked, 'Are you speaking to
me?'

"'Yes. I am worried about mother. She is sick. Go to her. She needs
help. Good-bye!' The smile faded; my friend's face resumed its
impersonal calm.

"'Did you recognize the spirit?' I asked.

"Miss Wilcox hesitated, but at last said: 'My sister was active in the
work of caring for orphan children. But that proves nothing. Anna may
have known it--there is no test in this. It may be only mind-reading.'

"'You are quite right,' I replied. 'But the