red, indeed, that time without number her other-life had
insensibly and unconsciously wandered away in search of correct
information regarding the result of the Winslow-Lyon suit, and, without
her volition or bidding, it had delved into the mysteries for her
suffering sister. She could assure her suffering sister, the clairvoyant
said, that Lyon was spiritually at her feet. All the trouble had arisen
between them from Mrs. Winslow's standing upon a higher spiritual plane
than Mr. Lyon. He, as was natural to man, had more of the sensual
element beclouding his spirit-life. Now, pleaded the clairvoyant,
couldn't she adjust an average between them? She was certain--yes, the
spirits, who never lie, had positively revealed to her that all that was
needed was some one to properly discover each of these affinities to the
other. In any case, all would eventually be well, and there was peace,
prosperity, and a large amount of money in waiting for her.

This sort of absurdity was related by Mrs. Winslow to an unlimited
extent that evening, as the three sipped the liquor she had provided,
and she insisted with great fervor that all these revelations strongly
corroborated the light she herself had received on the same subject.

As a long pause ensued after one of these heated asseverations, Bristol
ventured to ask how she had been enlightened concerning the matter.

Raising her flushed face towards the ceiling, then lifting her right arm
above her head and holding it there for a moment, she allowed it to
slowly descend with a coiling, serpentine motion, when she burst into a
sudden ecstasy of speech, movement and feature, and partly as in answer
to the inquiry, and partly as if struck with a swift and irresistible
inspiration, she said in a low, unearthly voice, and with weird effect:

"Yes, yes, I hear your angel voices calling; I see your beautiful forms;
I feel your tender fingers touching my aching head; I am listening to
your sweet, soft whispers. Ah! what is it you say?--yes, yes, yes! You
_are_ with me. You will watch over and guard me. You will ward off the
evil influences that surround me, and despite the darkness which
envelops me, even as the glorious sun leaps from his couch of crimson
and with his burnished lances drives the grim hosts of shadows before
him with the speed of the light!--What! are you now leaving?"

Here Mrs. Winslow gasped and kicked with her pretty feet alarmingly.

"What--what is that?--that rosy,