green, lay like soft
velvet in the immense distances towards the horizon line.

As I looked at all this, day after day, it seemed to me that Simla,
without its crowds of social butterflies, male and female, and the dust
and the flies, and even the heat that they bring with them, was one of
the most exquisitely beautiful spots that the Great Creator ever
"thought out" in His mind. Nowhere have I seen such a _velvety_ effect
of rolling hill and soft mountain-side; such gorgeous atmospheric
visions; such a carnival of beauty and colour.

We must have seen Simla at the most ideal time in the year, or people
must become _blase_ and blinded to its intoxicating beauty, thanks to
tennis tournaments and Government House receptions and the whole stupid
Social mill.

Not even the beauties of Kashmir have dimmed the memory of Simla for me;
but I would not go there again, and in the season, for anything that
could be offered to me.

All beauty is sacred, and I guard jealously my sacred memory of the
place, known to so many merely as a byword for folly and flirtation.

Some strange and curious experiences came to me there, both in automatic
writing and other ways; but these are of too private a nature for
publication.

And so, with the beauty of Simla and the romance of Kashmir as jewels in
my memory, I must end my second visit to India.

It is said that pleasant as well as painful experiences are apt to run
in _threes_. I trust this may be the case. If so, it will mean that once
again I shall tread upon Indian soil.

CHAPTER XIV

A FAMILY PORTRAIT AND PSYCHIC PHOTOGRAPHY

In the very heart of Warwickshire there is a beautiful old "half timber"
hall, approached by a noble avenue of elms. The hall has come down from
father to son, in the direct line, for nearly six hundred years, as the
dates upon the front of the house testify.

The present Squire is not only an old friend of my early youth, but is
connected through marriage, and he and his wife and I have always been
on very friendly terms. He is the usual type of fox-hunting squire and
county magistrate, did good service during the South African War by
raising a corps of Yeomanry from the estate, and going out with them to
fight his country's battles, and, needless to say, he received a hearty
ovation from his wife and his county when he returned to them in safety.
He is devoted to his beautiful house and estate, and is the last man to
entertain fancies or su