very clear or distinct, and that is a beautiful
face that is always bending over me, and always seems full of love and
tenderness. Sometimes there are other faces in the background, but
they are confused and indistinct,--I can only recall this one that is
so beautiful. Then there is always a general sense of light and
beauty, and sometimes I seem to hear music; and then it is all
suddenly succeeded by an indescribable terror, in which the face
vanishes, and from which I awake trembling with fright."

"And you say you have had this dream always?" queried Miss Gladden.

"Yes, ever since I could remember. I don't seem to be able to recall
much about my early childhood, before I was five or six years old, but
these dreams are among my earliest recollections, and I would
sometimes awake crying with fright. After I met Jack, and he began
teaching me, my mind was so taken up with study, that the dreams
became less frequent, and for the last two or three years, I had
almost forgotten them, till something seemed to recall them, and now
it occurs often, especially after we have had an evening of song. I
know I shall see that beautiful face to-night."

"But whose face is it, Lyle?" questioned Miss Gladden; "surely, it
must resemble some one you have seen."

Lyle shook her head; "I have never seen any living person whom it
resembled. That, together with all these strange impressions of which
I have told you, is what seems so mysterious, and leads me to half
believe I have lived another life, sometime, somewhere."

Miss Gladden sat silently caressing the golden head. Her suspicions
that Lyle had had other parents than those whom she knew as such, were
almost confirmed, but would it be best, with no tangible proof, to
hint such a thought to Lyle herself? While she was thus musing, Lyle
continued:

"What seemed to me strangest of all, is, that though I cannot remember
ever seeing a living face like the one in my dream, I have seen what I
believe is a photograph of it."

"When? and where?" asked Miss Gladden quickly, hoping to find some key
to the problem she was trying to solve.

"A few weeks after your coming, and at Jack's cabin," Lyle replied.

"Did Jack show you the picture?"

"No, I do not know that he intended me to see it, but it was lying on
the table that evening; I took it up and looked at it, but he did not
seem to want to talk about it. I have never seen it since, and he told
me that until that evening, he had