e is still
near the earth plane. I cannot place her at all. She is short and stout;
her grey hair is brushed back from her forehead. I do not feel as if you
had known her very long."

Her voice died away, then suddenly became stronger, more confident:
"Your mother--if it is your mother--is trying to shield you from her."

She remained silent for a while. She seemed to be listening. Then she
spoke again: "I get a word--what is it?--not _Ardour? Aboard?_ No, I
think it's _Arbour_!"

She gazed anxiously into Varick's pale, set face. "She says, 'Remember
the _Arbour_.' D'you follow me?"

She asked the question with a certain urgency, and Bubbles' host nodded,
imperceptibly.

Then she left him, dragging her chair along till she was just opposite
Helen Brabazon.

"I see a man standing behind you," she began; "he is dressed in rather
curious, old-fashioned cricketing clothes."

A look of amazement and understanding passed over Helen's face.

Bubbles went on, confidently: "He is a tall, well-set-up man. He has
light brown hair and grey eyes. He is smiling. I think it is your
father. Now he looks grave. He is uneasy about you. He is sorry you came
here, to Wyndfell Hall. Do you follow me?"

But Helen shook her head. She felt bewildered and oppressed. "I wonder,"
she said falteringly, "if he could give me a sign? I do so long to know
if it is _really_ my dear, dear father."

Blanche Farrow turned a little hot. It was too bad of Bubbles to do the
thing in this way!

"He says--he says--I hear him say a word--" Bubbles stopped and knit her
brows. "'Girl, girl'--no, it isn't 'girl'--"

"Girlie?" murmured Helen under her breath.

"Yes, that's it! 'Girlie'--he says _'girlie_.'"

Helen Brabazon covered her face with her hands. She was deeply moved.
What wonderful thing was this? She told herself that never, never would
she allow herself to speak lightly or slightingly of spiritualism again!
As far as she knew, no one in that room, not even her uncle or aunt, was
aware that "girlie" had been her long dead father's pet name for his
only child.

And then, quite suddenly, Bubbles' voice broke into a kind of cry. "Take
care!" she said. "Take care! I see another form. It has taken the place
of your father. I think it is the form of a woman who has passed over,
and who loved you once, but whose heart is now full of hatred. D'you
follow me? Quick! quick! She's fading away!"

Helen shook her head. "No," she said in a dull vo