IX. 1896, HAUNTINGS BY THE LIVING AND THE DEAD 176
X. FURTHER EXPERIENCES IN AMERICA 195
XI. A HAUNTED CASTLE IN IRELAND 218
XII. 1900-1901, ODDS AND ENDS 232
XIII. 1903, A SECOND VISIT TO INDIA 260
XIV. A FAMILY PORTRAIT AND PSYCHIC PHOTOGRAPHY 274
APPENDIX 298

INTRODUCTION

Many years ago, whilst living at Oxford, I was invited by a very old
friend, who had recently taken his degree, to a river picnic; with
Nuneham, I think, as its alleged object.

Unfortunately, the day proved unfavourable, and we returned in open
boats, also with open umbrellas; a generally drenched and bedraggled
appearance, and nothing to cheer us on the physical plane except a
quantity of iced coffee which had been ordered in anticipation of a
tropical day.

Under these rather trying conditions I can remember getting a good
deal of amusement out of the companions in the special boat which
proved to be my fate. Our host, being a clever and interesting man
himself, had collected clever and interesting people round him, on the
"Birds of a Feather" principle, and I happened to sit between two
ladies, one the wife (now, alas! the widow) of a man who was to become
later on one of our most famous bishops; the other--her bosom friend
and deadly rival--the wife of an equally distinguished Oxford don.

The iced coffee combined with the pouring rain may have been partly to
blame, but certainly the conversation that went on between the two
ladies, across my umbrella, was decidedly _Feline_.

To pass the time we were valiantly endeavouring to play "Twenty
Questions" from the bottom of the boat, and the Bishop's widow was
asking the questions. She had triumphantly elicited the fact that we
had thought of a _cinder_--and an historical cinder--and the twentieth
and last permissible question was actually hovering on her lips. "It
was the cinder that Richard Coeur de Lion's horse fell upon," she
said eagerly. Of course, we all realised that this was a most obvious
"slip" in the case of so highly educated a woman; but the Bosom Friend
could not resist putting out the velvet paw: "A little confusion in
the centuries, I think, dear," she said sweetly. The unfortunate
questioner practically "never smiled again" during _that_ expedition.
But a still more crushing blow was in store for her.

The conversatio