doubtless it was an error, _but I had never hinted to him that I had
asked her to correct the error in New York, or that she had been unable
to speak on that occasion_.

This again was a good bit of independent evidence.

I will now give a description of Mr Knapton Thompson's interview with
his daughter, on the same evening that Julia appeared to me. I have
already said that the magnet which drew Mr Thompson to these _seances_
was the opportunity given to him of meeting and talking to a daughter
who had passed away some years previously.

On this special evening the daughter materialised as usual, and came out
from the cabinet. As Mr Thompson was sitting next to me at the time, I
could distinctly hear Mrs Gray whisper to him:

"Would you not like to take your daughter into the other room, Mr
Thompson? It is rather crowded here to-night. You would be quieter in
there."

Mr Thompson got up at once, and greeted the materialised form, and they
disappeared through the folding doors to the reception-room. Other
matters of interest were occurring, and I had quite forgotten the
absence of Mr Thompson in the dimly lighted room (in those days the
light was always dim _at first_), until I found he was again occupying
the seat next to my own. I had not noticed his return, and asked him at
once 'what he had done with his daughter.' A good half hour must have
elapsed between his disappearance and return. He said, quite simply and
as a matter of course: "Oh, she did not care to come back into this
crowded room. We had half-an-hour's chat, and then she de-materialised
in the other room, and I returned alone."

I can only repeat that Mr Knapton Thompson was a shrewd, practical
Yorkshireman, and a very successful man of business, as was proved by
the orders he received in America for the stoves he had invented.

He was certainly under the impression that he could be trusted to
recognise his own daughter when allowed the privilege of half-an-hour's
conversation with her, _tete-a-tete_ in a private room.

I cannot end this chapter without saying something about Keely of
Philadelphia and his intuitional genius.

I had hoped to have the opportunity of meeting this wonderful man during
my last stay in Philadelphia, U.S.A. (March 1897), but was disappointed
in this expectation. Therefore, on the outer plane, my connection with
Keely never went beyond a single interview with his wife; but this is a
record of personal intuitions as we