e words without getting at their
real sense, and, what is worse, without suspecting our own ignorance?"

"I know it well."

"When Henrietta used to say that the whirl of worldly occupations and
interests and amusements in which I was so engrossed did not deserve to
be called life, and could never satisfy the eternal soul within me, it
used to seem to me an exaggerated way of saying that the next world
would be better than this one; but I saw the meaning of her words, I saw
the truth of them, as I see these flowers before me, and feel the gravel
under my feet: it came to me in a moment, the night these terrible eyes
looked into mine. The feeling did not last, but I have never forgotten
it, and never shall. It was as if a veil were lifted for an instant, and
I was standing outside of my life and looking back at it; and it seemed
so poor and worthless and unreal--I can't explain myself properly."

"And did the figure remain for any time?"

"I do not know. I think I must have fainted. They found me lying in a
half-unconscious state in my chair when they came home. I was ill in bed
for weeks with what the doctors call low fever. But neither the fever
nor anything else could remove the impression that had been made. That
terrible thing was a blessed messenger to me. My real conversion was
not till years later, but the way was prepared by the great shock I then
received, and which roused me to a sense of my danger."

"What do you think the thing you saw Was, Mrs. Mostyn?"

"The ghost?"

"Yes."

Slowly, thoughtfully, she answered me--

"I am certain it was a lost soul: nothing else could have worn that
dreadful look."

She paused for a few moments and then continued--

"Perhaps you are one of those who do not believe in the punishment of
sin?"

"Who can disbelieve it, Mrs. Mostyn? Call it what we like, it is a fact.
It confronts us on every side. We might as well refuse to believe in
death."

"It is not that I meant! I was talking of punishment in the next world,
Mr. Lyndsay."

"Well, there, too, no doubt it must continue, until the uttermost
farthing is paid. I believe--at least I hope--that."

She shook her head with a troubled expression.

"There is no paying that debt in the next world. It can only be paid
here. Here, a free pardon is offered to us, and if we do not accept it,
then---- It is the fashion, even among believers, nowadays to avoid this
awful subject. Preachers of the Gospel do not speak of