Chapter VI: Part 6

"I followed my guide out of the house and through a grove of trees, till we came to the edge of the lake. A boat was waiting which, when we had entered, carried us silently without any apparent means of progress, to the temple steps, and after we had landed, as silently returned to its former place. When we had walked up the steps and passed between the marble pillars, I saw that a wide-open colonnade extended round a circular inner shrine, which was enclosed with a solid wall. In this wall, and opposite the steps, was a beautiful carved archway, the entrance to which was closed with folding-doors of embossed silver. As we drew near, they opened; at the same moment the moon rose, and I heard again those soft strains of music which had reached me the preceding night whilst I lay watching from the hill. I will try to give you some idea of the scene which was presented to me as I followed the high priest into the temple.

"At first the light was so dim that I found it difficult to distinguish objects clearly; but as the moon rose higher, and my eyes became accustomed to the light, the full beauty of the building was disclosed. Although, from outside, the temple seemed divided into three floors, the dome of this inner shrine extended to the summit of the building. The second and third double rows of columns, through which the moonlight now poured, supported the inner dome, and formed covered colonnades from which it was possible either to look down into the temple, or out upon the lake and woods around. As in the Taj of Agra, the walls were covered with writing formed of crystals and other more or less precious stones, while the floor was covered with marble mosaic worked into various designs. In the centre was a clear deep pool, from the surface of which rose seven thin columns of water, one rising fifty feet, and the others which surrounded it about thirty, before they fell in light spray into the circular basin. There were about a hundred persons present, all robed in loose white tunics; some were standing, but the greater number were reclining, or sitting upon tiers of broad marble steps.

"With the exception of myself, there were only two present whose dress in any way distinguished them from the others; one was the high priest, who wore round his waist a golden girdle set with what appeared to be precious stones; and the other a woman who was standing near him, on whose breast lay a jewel cut in the shape of a heart, from which proceeded a pale soft light. The woman, whom I rightly judged to be the high priestess, must have been sixty years of age; she was tall and still beautifully proportioned; her hair was silvery white, her complexion smooth and clear; but at the time I hardly noticed any of these details, so absorbed had I become in watching the varying expressions on her face. She was standing in shadow, but the light from the luminous jewel on her breast lit up her features so that they were clearly visible.

"I have never seen any other face so radiant with divine love, meekness, and purity, so full of gentle power and trustful calm. A strong impulse came over me, and rising from my seat I went and knelt down before her; as I did so she bent and kissed me on the forehead; then taking my hand, she brought me to some steps which led to the central basin, and bade me go down into the water. The music ceased, the fountains stopped, and then through the silence that followed she spoke aloud, so that all the assembly, who had risen, could hear.

"'Father of all, grant that as this water changes the blood-red robe of thy child into the garment of purity, so may Thy spirit purify his heart, changing fear to trust, passion to love, and pride to humility, until as a pure and crystal mirror he may reflect on earth Thy beauty and Thy light, even as yonder moon, now that the sun is hidden from our eyes, reflects the glory which man may no longer behold.'

"From every side came the response, 'Grant this our prayer, O Father of all!'

"When I rose out of the water, I was almost dazzled by the lustrous whiteness of my robe, which had somehow been robbed of its scarlet colour; moreover, both my spirit and body seemed strengthened and purified. Then the high priest came near and welcomed me in the name of all present, saying--

"'Child of the Most High, gladly do we, thy brothers and sisters, welcome thee to our family of priesthood; may thy coming aid us in the endless search for truth; may thy power, added to our power, hasten the glorious time when the order of the universe shall no longer be arrested by man's blindness, but the will of the Almighty be performed on earth even as in the kingdoms that are around the earth.'

"As one by one the priests and priestesses came near to greet me, I noticed that there appeared to be about an equal number of men and women present; most of these were advanced in years, but among them were some who could not have been much over twenty. On the faces of all, whether old or young, fair or dark, the same calm expression of trust, purity, power, and meekness was stamped.

"The moon had now risen, and its light fell upon the temple floor; on this spot two of the priests laid a thick rug and cushions on which one of the youngest girls lay down. The music once more began to play, but now very softly. It was a strange and beautiful picture; the lovely girl with her long dark hair falling over the white robe, lying thus in the soft light; the priests and priestesses standing round in partial shadow; the noble proportions of the temple, the lace-work of arches and pillars between which the moon's rays fell. But I had little time to think of all these things, for in a moment I saw--but not, as I know now, through the medium of the bodily eye--the spiritual form of the girl rise from the body, and as the dew is drawn from the earth, pass upward and then vanish from sight.

"Ajar, the high priest, who was standing beside me, said, 'You are conscious that the spirit of Mintor the priestess has left her body for a time, and passed to some other sphere?'

"And I answered, 'Yes, I saw it pass upward.'

"'It is confusing,' he replied, 'to use the word see, for the eye, which is an organ of the body, receives no impression from the spiritual form. The spiritual perception we call _viam_, and the verb _view_ with us is used for all impressions which reach the mind independently of the bodily organs. I am glad that you possess this gift so far developed, as there are but few present who have yet attained the power, except under certain favourable conditions. Those who are worthy to wear the white robe have each some special spiritual gift, but these gifts vary greatly. Some can converse with those at a distance; some _view_ what is passing in the world around; others, as in the case of Mintor, can leave the body and pass into the spirit-world. This is the most coveted of all gifts, as from those who possess it we can learn new wisdom. The founder of our faith had still a greater power. He could, on leaving the body, dissolve it into gaseous form, and his spirit, whithersoever it went, was able to draw from nature the needed material, and to take human form wherever or whenever it pleased; but since he left us, few have been able to do this, and never with safety, for under certain conditions they lost the power, and having as it were no root upon the earth, their spirits were drawn to other spheres and returned no more. The cause of this is, we know, physical weakness, and he who shall again succeed must possess a body equally developed with his spirit; such a one I believe you to be, and it is possible you may succeed, should you be willing to undergo the training that is necessary. But we expect to receive from Mintor, when her spirit returns, some guidance on the matter.'

"Having said this, he took me by the hand and led me up to the place where the body of the girl lay as though in deep sleep; then all those present knelt down and seemed to be engaged in prayer.

"'The strength of the prayers of all present are with thee,' he continued. 'Kneel down and take both of Mintor's hands in thine; see whether it may be possible for thy spirit to join hers in the life beyond, for in the spirit kingdom only can that knowledge be received which can give power over the world of matter.'

"I did as bidden, and the light seemed to become more and more powerful, then all grew dark, but through the darkness I heard a voice saying, 'Come.' A great pain passed over my body and I was free.

"It would be quite impossible for me to give you any true idea of the exquisite delight I experienced when now for the first time conscious of untrammelled life. No one would believe how much pain is inseparable from every movement of even the healthiest body until he has once been freed from the burden. We gauge pain and pleasure simply by the sensations that are above or below the average of existence; when less than usually burdened, we call life happy; if more than usually tried, we call it painful. As a bird confined from birth in a tiny cage is unconscious of its cramped suffering, so the spirit of man having no remembrance of freedom, regards its present house with toleration, and is even unwilling to be released. I could hardly feel surprised now that unselfishness is a necessary condition of spiritual growth, as the love of others could alone draw a free spirit back to its chains.

"Of what I passed through during this and similar experiences I shall now say nothing. After I am dead you will find a sealed paper, on the cover of which is written 'A spiritual autobiography. If you feel it wise to open and read it, or even to publish part or all of it, you can do so, for by that time you will have my influence to guide you, and I shall be able to judge better which course is the wisest for you to take.'

"I shall not continue my story any further this evening, as you are anxious to ask me some questions, and it is already late."

"There is one thing," I replied, "which I cannot understand, namely, the death of your companion. Considering the nobility and kindly disposition of these priests, the tests of worthiness seem almost cruel and barbarous."

"Your feeling," Sydney answered, "is very similar to that which I experienced at the time, and though I have not dwelt on the subject for fear of interrupting the narrative, the death of my friend was not only a deep grief to me, but also caused a shock from which it was some time before I could recover; but after my spiritual freedom in the temple I was able to understand things better. Life, which we prize so dearly, is looked upon by those who have the highest knowledge, not as a pleasure, but as a necessary and painful lesson. Death is an upward movement into a more perfect condition; moreover, through the knowledge which these men possessed, they considered themselves but as merciful instruments for saving pain. The duration of life is not determined by an accident to the body, but solely by growth of the spirit. When a man or woman has become fitted for another sphere, the outward growth must be cast off. Sometimes this is done slowly, through disease; sometimes in a moment through what men call accident; but in either case the thing is inevitable. If men only knew it, they could shorten or lengthen life by retarding or aiding the growth of the spirit, but in that way only."

"Do you," I asked, "then imply that the more slowly a man learns his lesson the longer he lives?"

"Sometimes," he answered, "but there is another reason for death. An evil bodily habit often retards the proper growth of the spirit, in which case the soul has to be re-incarnated. How often do we see some man with a fine and noble disposition utterly ruined by one bodily vice, that, though hateful to him, has become too powerful for his will. The fight up to a certain point is useful, and often lasts many years, but a time comes when the spirit begins to suffer, and then the end is near. I can often tell very nearly how much longer a man will live, by reading his inmost thoughts. From a superficial view, deterioration seems frequently to set in long before the end; but this is owing to the fact that we judge by outward signs. As long as a man can cry from his soul, if only in his better moments, to be delivered, he is learning, if no other lesson, that of humility."

"Then there is one other question," I said. "Can it be right for one man to try to lead another into temptation?"

"That is a very difficult question to answer," he replied, "and one which I have spent many hours in discussing with Ajar the high priest. There is much to be said on both sides. Of course in a state of perfection it would be unnecessary, and one can easily picture a case in which as a lesser of two evils it might be justifiable; but I believe under these circumstances it was a mistake, and the practice is now discontinued altogether, with many others which were relics of a past superstition."

"Does this community still exist?" I asked.

"It does, and is likely to continue to do so," Sydney replied. "From this centre flows forth the beginning of a new faith, which is slowly, under many names, spreading over the earth. It is from rumours of this hidden power that arise many of the mythical stories of Eastern magic; but only those fitted to know the truth will ever be allowed to come near the shrine, for the powers of the earth are nothing against the powers of the spirit."

"Do you not often miss the companionship which you must have found among these people?" I asked.

"I spend much of my time with them still," he answered. "Strange as it may seem to you, who are for the present bound down by the limitation of space, it is as easy for me to visit them as it is to come to your house. Distance is unknown in the spirit-world, and even whilst man remains on earth, as soon as he is able to control his spiritual perceptions, the influence of the body becomes daily less noticeable. But you will understand this better later on."

*CHAPTER VIII*

When I next met Sydney after the conversation given in the previous chapter, he seemed to me far from well. His face was pale, and his eyes shone with unnatural brightness.

"You are tired to-night," I said, when we were again sitting together in his laboratory. "Do not trouble to go on with your story unless you feel inclined to do so."

"I am not too tired to talk," he replied, "but have been trying an experiment which fatigues the body; I can rest while continuing the account of my experiences. It will, however, be necessary to pass rather briefly over the time spent at Aphar, which is the name given to the rocky plateau on which the temple stands. So much of my life was connected with purely spiritual experiences, the full account of which you will some day have the opportunity of reading, that it will be well to confine myself at present only to those matters which are necessary for the full understanding of my subsequent life in England, and to the powers which during this time I developed and perfected.

"Each time that my spirit left the body and went, either by itself or in company with other spirits, into the world of unseen life which surrounds us here I gained more and more knowledge, until at last it was considered safe for me to try that most difficult of all experiments, the casting off for the time being of those materials which form the body, in the hope of being able to recall similar elements at will in whatever place the spirit might wish to regain its bodily form. I think it highly probable, however, that I should not so soon have risked the danger, had it not been for a certain knowledge gained during one of my hours of spiritual freedom.

"I should explain that in the trance condition, when the soul is free to wander untrammelled, and to come into communion with those who are invisible to mortal eyes, it is also equally possible to visit those who still live upon earth, though they will not be conscious of your presence, unless they also possess some of the powers of the sixth sense.

"I had a strong desire to see Vera again, and to find out if the arrangements made for her future had worked satisfactorily. It was not long, therefore, before I took the opportunity of discovering this by the aid of my new gift, and I was horrified at finding that not only were things far from satisfactory, but that unless I could interfere, a still more serious evil would probably arise.

"Now though in this state I could watch all that happened, I was powerless to act; but if I once dared risk death by destroying my body, it would be possible for me to draw the needed particles together in England or elsewhere; and it was the thought of Vera's danger that chiefly induced me to run the risk. Before doing so, I laid the whole case before the high priest, and he decided that the matter should be fully discussed in the temple on the following evening, and the opinion of those present taken; for it was to the interest of all that the experiment should be successful, and even necessary, as he pointed out, that I should be aided by whatever help they collectively might be able to offer.

"When we were gathered together, I stood up and briefly told my reasons for wishing to again return to my own land. It was not necessary to use many words to such an audience. Some were able to read my inmost thoughts; some to see the place and people I wished to visit; some even to recall every detail of my past life. There was, however, not one there who could foretell the future, not one who knew if I should return to them again, for even the higher spirits know not what shall be. One and only One can penetrate the dark cloud which hangs over futurity. The greater the knowledge we have, the more easy do we find it to forecast the probable course of events. The parent can prophesy to his child, and the wise reveal to the foolish many things that seem hidden, for nature moves by law; but neither man nor spirit is able to do more than this. Yet I realized that a feeling of confidence was in each heart, and that I should be aided by all the united power present. For myself, I cared little whether I failed or not: only my wish to help Vera, and the hope that I might be of use to others, made me anxious to return to the body.

"A solemn silence followed, after which it was decided that I should not go forth alone. Two of those present were chosen to accompany me in spirit, while their bodies were entranced; and the others would remain in the temple watching us, that if it were possible to aid me in any way, assistance might be given.

"At last the moment arrived, and Luloor and Karman, the two who had been chosen to accompany me, lay down, and as their bodies seemed to pass from wakeful activity into deathlike slumber, I became conscious of their spiritual presences lingering over me, waiting for the time when I should join them. Not only were they present, but the temple was thronged with countless spirits ready to welcome me into the world of freedom which lies so close, and yet so far away from our material earth.

"It is not possible to describe in language, nor would I do so even if possible, how the spirit may disperse these various chemical bonds which form its vesture here. To one watching, the form seems to dissolve as the various elements pass into the air, even as when by the influence of intense heat the solid metal becomes transformed into invisible gases.

"The views which many people, even though well educated, hold with regard to matter are most extraordinary. Without acknowledging it, they consider anything that is solid as on quite a distinct plane from that which is liquid or gaseous, and though they are well aware of the fact that it requires but a comparatively slight alteration in temperature to turn this solid earth into a ball of gas, even this knowledge does not really affect their unconscious prejudice. So again with regard to the views held about the body: though even a child can tell you that the body is for ever changing, how few can realize when they meet some loved friend who has been absent a few years that the hand they touch is not the same they touched at parting; that the eye which looks into theirs is a strange one; and that not one single particle of the body before them have they ever seen before! The spirit alone remains. How many bodies do we bury before the final funeral day comes round? Why should we care more for the last fragments than for the lesser fragments gone before? We gather from the water, earth, and air, directly or indirectly, all our spirit's clothing. We use these gifts a little time, and then return them to the givers. In man's present state the will acts unconsciously, our animal instincts drawing slowly such particles as they require. With a higher knowledge the spirit acts more directly upon matter, ruling it, and with conscious power attracting or repelling the elements at will; but there is no more violation of natural law in such seeming miracles than there is in the machinery which can turn out in less than a second some work which in years gone by may have taken a man days of labour to accomplish.

"It is, of course, the same with the material covering of the body, save that to gather together particles such as are required for clothing is far simpler and easier than to draw those required for the more complicated formation of the human form.

"For instance, there were many present among the priests who could bring together any combinations of gaseous matters and convert them into whatsoever they wished that had not life. Thus even gold was considered here of no value. They could create the outer semblance of some of the lower forms of life, though in no case is it possible to give the spirit of life--even in its lowest form, such as is the plants, for this divine gift is eternal, and cometh and goeth by the will of the Creator alone.

"But to return to the scene in the temple. As I stood in the midst of the white-robed assembly of mortals, encircled by the countless host of spirit forms, the fear of destroying my one link to the earth passed away, and I began to free myself from the bondage of the body; not as I had hitherto done, by quitting it, but by force of will and through knowledge taught me in the spirit-world. I let the particles which formed it free, changing them into those few elementary substances from which, through a rearrangement of atoms, our complicated structure is composed. Thus, while those around could still notice no change in the apparently sleeping forms of Luloor and Karman, my body had become invisible. The great experiment had so far proved successful, though it still remained a matter of uncertainty whether I should be able to regain my material form.

"It had been arranged beforehand, in order better to dispel the anxiety of those who were watching, and to avoid any additional risk, that on this first occasion my spirit should not wander far, but return soon and recall, if possible, its material shape. I believe that it was owing to this precaution that I was successful, for not only was I able thus to receive the aid of every member of the society, but the shorter the time that the spirit is in freedom, the less difficult is it to return to a bodily existence. It will suffice for the present to say that I succeeded, and from that day continually made fresh experiments, staying away longer, and returning to the body at various places, each time at a greater distance from the temple.

"At first my spirit was always accompanied by Luloor and Karman, but as I grew more confident, I began to dispense first with one and then with both my companions. At last, without difficulty I could take up a new form in any part of the world, and in one sense the limitations of time and space were partially removed.

"It has been necessary for me to dwell thus briefly on my life at Aphar to enable you to understand my further relations with Vera; but I have purposely avoided going into any unnecessary details, and do not intend to refer again to the matter at present. Indeed, if it had been possible to make myself intelligible without mentioning the subject, I should have preferred it. But it would have been hopeless otherwise to explain the power which I acquired, and the entire alteration in my views of life which dated from this time; for this experience changed and revolutionized my character in such a way that it would have been impossible for you to follow my further actions with any degree of comprehension.

"I propose now to let you have an account of what was taking place in England during my absence, but I shall let Vera tell it to you herself, in her own words, or rather it shall seem to you that this is so. But remember that the girl will appear to you as she was at the time, not only in appearance, but in thought and character."

Even as Alan Sydney spoke I found myself in complete darkness; then I heard Vera's voice.

"I have come," she said, "to tell you the story of my life after Alan left me and went to India."

As she was speaking the light once more fell softly on the room; my late companion had gone, and I was alone save for the presence of the beautiful girl, whose weak yet lovely face I have already endeavoured to describe.

*PART III*

*CHAPTER IX*

"Listen!" Vera said, moving forward and sitting down on the couch beside me. "It is a strange experience. My position, to begin with, was unusual and somewhat upsetting to a girl of only eighteen. I was married to Lord Vancome, a man I did not even like, who had moreover disappeared; while the man I admired and trusted had also left England, after giving me a large fortune. I was in possession of Somerville, my husband's ancestral home, and of all his estates, neither of which had he power to enter without my consent. My father, whom I had always believed to be wealthy, would also soon be dependent upon my generosity.

"The day that Alan left, his lawyer arrived from London, and explained the position to me. Being married, I had become freed from all parental control; the estates and money were tied up in such a manner that my husband could not touch them; and, to my surprise, I found out from the conversation that a thousand pounds a year would be paid to Lord Vancome as long as he took no steps to interfere with my inclinations, but that should he at any time take legal action to compel me to live with him, this payment would be stopped.

"The lawyer also explained how, in the event of my husband taking this step, which seemed very improbable, the law could be easily avoided by a person who was, like myself, in possession of a large private fortune.

"Having made all these complicated details as plain as possible, and after advising me to consult him before taking any important step, he asked to see my father.

"What passed at this interview I do not know, but from that day I was treated by my parents in a way differing considerably from anything hitherto experienced. I was flattered, petted, and allowed to do exactly what I pleased without comment or rebuke.

"We soon decided to leave Heather Lodge, and spend a short time in London, after which I had made up my mind to go with my parents and live at Somerville. Nothing of importance happened during our stay in town. My father was busily engaged in making arrangements with his creditors, whilst I spent most of my time in the new delight of shopping on my own account.

"Somerville had been bought, together with all the old pictures, tapestries, and furniture which had belonged to my husband's family, so that I was spared the expense of furnishing a large house. But there were, nevertheless, opportunities for extravagance open even in this direction, to say nothing of dress and jewellery, so that the days passed pleasantly.

"It was not till May that I first saw my new home, and even then I left London with regret. My father had gone down two or three times to see that everything was in order. Servants had been engaged, and the place was quite comfortable when we arrived.

"Somerville is a fine old house, but unfortunately the man who had decided upon the position chose it with more regard to appearance than health. In the park around, which covers about a thousand acres, there are hundreds of what modern builders would call 'eligible and imposing sites,' yet this perverse man placed his building in a hollow, surrounded on three sides by rising ground, opening only to the south. The slopes are covered with magnificent trees; a stream rushes down behind the building and falls over a beautiful waterfall into a lake. This expanse of water, the foliage and enclosing hills, make the situation relaxing, and in summer time the air is very oppressive.

"I was, however, at first much too delighted with the place to think of these defects. We arrived on a beautiful evening, bright, yet cool; the sunset made a lovely background for the trees. Through gaps in the dark foliage the red light fell in patterns on the moss-covered stone roofing of the house, or was reflected from the surface of the lake. The birds were singing gaily, their song mingling pleasantly with the sound of falling water. There had been heavy rain, and the air was full of the sweet, yet bitter, smell of earth, decaying leaves, and spring flowers.

"The house, which had been built during the reign of Charles I., was a long, low, stone building, with mullioned windows. It gave the idea of being larger than it really was, but owing to its moderate proportions, the rooms were very comfortable. There was little oak to be seen in the house, the panelling and furniture throughout being of mahogany, which was nearly black with age. The walls were covered with tapestry, pictures, armour, and many relics of bygone sport.

"While looking round I thought of my husband, and tried to picture him as a child playing in the old rooms. For a moment I wished that he were there and could tell me the stories connected with some of the relics.

"'Father,' I said, 'we shall, after all, have to ask Vancome down, if only to learn something about my new family history.'

"A look of annoyance passed over my father's face, and he answered crossly--

"'Nonsense, child! I hope you will not think of such a thing! There is an old housekeeper who has been here for goodness knows how many years; I kept her on that she might be useful. Whatever you want to know Mrs. King will no doubt be able to tell you.' Then, apparently remembering the altered position of affairs, his voice changed as he continued, 'Well, dearest, and what do you think of your new home? It is a lovely place for a young girl to be mistress of, and if sensible she will be in no hurry to hand it over to any spendthrift master. Should you require a little knowledge or advice, who can give it you better than your father? In me, little one, you will find a man who is willing to take the trouble and responsibility off your hands, and at the same time leave you free to do just as you choose.'

"This was not the first time that I had noticed how strongly my father was opposed to the idea of any meeting taking place between my husband and myself. I am now inclined to fancy that the reason we left London at the commencement of the season was owing more to his influence than to my own inclination. He had always been picturing to me the delights of country life in my new home; and it is quite possible that the fear of Vancome returning to London had a good deal to do with his action. Nor did he confine himself to this course only. Every story he could rake up which presented my husband in a vile or ridiculous light was repeated to me, and I have since found out that many of these reports were highly coloured. My mother, in a feeble way, backed him up.

"'Darling,' she said to me on the night of our arrival, when I went up to her room to kiss her before going to bed; 'what a lucky girl you are! Marriage is not by any means all that you young people think, even if by some rare chance you do secure a good husband. To be tied down to one man, and have to put up with all his little fads, jealousies, or tempers; never to be able to call a day your own, or to make friends of one of the other sex without the possibility of a scene! Well, most of us have to take the chance of this kind of life at the best, or go unprovided for; while you, owing to the generosity of Alan Sydney, have, without any of the disadvantages, everything you can desire--wealth, freedom, and position. With such a fortune the world is at your feet, if only you keep that scamp of a husband of yours at arm's-length. Without your consent he can do nothing, but if you once allow him to get a footing here again, good-bye to your happiness, your money, and your power. Do not forget what I have said, dearest, and run away now, for I am very much done up after my journey.'

"As I lay in bed that night I thought over what my mother had said. How changed were these opinions now from those she had expressed a year ago! Then it seemed that marriage was the one aim of a girl's life; that love had some meaning, though she had always told me that love and poverty never long exist hand-in-hand. But what glowing pictures she had painted of wealthy married life! Now we had ascended to a higher plane still, and I found the three degrees of comparison--first, love and poverty; then love and riches; and best of all, riches without love. I was, however, rather doubtful if this last stage would satisfy me for long, though I failed to see any remedy. Alas! I loved the wrong man, and regretted deeply the folly which had persuaded me to throw him over on that unlucky night.

"But it was useless to dwell on the past; so, trying to fancy that I was as fortunate as my parents seemed to think, I cried a little, and fell asleep, wondering what I was crying about.

"That night I had a most unpleasant dream. I thought I heard a sound as of some one moving in the house, and though trembling with fear, I got out of bed and went to the door to listen. Some one was evidently coming along the landing which led to my room. After trying the handle to make sure that my door was locked, I turned round with the intention of getting into bed, but found, much to my dismay, that I was no longer in my own room, but in the hall down-stairs. In front of me on the further wall hung a picture--a portrait of myself. The eyes seemed turned to me with a look of deep, pitiful interest. While standing thus in wonder, the door behind me opened. I turned, yet though the sound of footsteps passed me and went on toward the picture, I could see no one.

"Then it seemed to me as though this invisible presence cut with a knife round the edges of the canvas, and the painting fell forward with its face on the floor, leaving a deep black hole through which the stars could be seen to glimmer in the heaven, whilst at the same minute a gust of cold wind came into the room.

"But worse was to follow, for through this strange doorway into the outer night, three horrible winged creatures like bats entered with noiseless flight, followed by a large owl. These foul vampires fluttered around me, and as I fiercely fought at the winged brutes, striving to drive them from me, the owl, which had settled on the picture-frame, sat blinking its eyes and rolling its head from side to side. At last, utterly exhausted, I sank down upon the ground, and the hideous creatures fell upon me, biting through my thin covering, and staining the white linen with my blood.

"Then through the dark opening a snow-white dove passed, as a streak of moonlight, into the room and fluttered over me, and its soft eyes were turned to mine. No sooner, however, did the vampires become conscious of its presence, than leaving me with one accord they rose upward and tried to seize it. Scarcely had their loathly forms, however, come in contact with the white fluttering wings, than, as though struck by some flash of unseen lightning, they fell lifeless on my breast; and at the horror of their dead touch I awoke! Yet even as I looked around my room the blinking eyes and nodding head of the owl seemed still before me.

"I sat up, listening, and stared into the darkness. The sound of footsteps and the opening and shutting of doors could be distinctly heard. It had doubtless been such sounds that had in some way influenced my dream.

"I was now wide-awake, and could distinguish my father's voice speaking to one of the servants, so all fear of the supernatural vanished. I struck a match, and drawing a warm wrapper over me went out on to the landing to discover the cause of the disturbance. I had barely opened my door before a maid with blanched face came hurrying towards me.

"'Please, my lady,' she said, 'Mr. Soudin wants you in your mother's room at once;' and not waiting for me to ask a question she hurried on.

"Frightened by the girl's expression, I ran down the passage, but on reaching my mother's door, hesitated. It was partially opened, and I could hear the sound of rambling speech. Then for a moment there was silence, but as I entered a piercing cry made me hasten forward.

"The fire cast a lurid light over the room, throwing shadows now here, now there, upon the objects around. My father stood beside the bed, his face turned from me, as he held a glass in one hand and with the other supported my mother, who was sitting up surrounded with pillows. Her face was deadly pale, her eyes fixed as though upon some horrible vision.

"I am afraid that I never loved my parents, though it is not easy to say why, for in a certain sense they had always been kind to me. They had fed, clothed, and educated, but never really made a companion of me. My father was always either engaged in business or pleasure, and my presence as a rule seemed to irritate him. My mother had, almost before I can remember, given up interest in any one; she spent her time chiefly in reading novels, and gave as a reason for thus neglecting her duties the bad health and excessive nervousness which made every movement or sound torture to her. Before marriage she had been a recognized beauty, and for many years enjoyed the gaiety of social life; but at last she had fallen under the influence of some preacher who had thoroughly frightened her. Then for a time she devoted herself to various charitable undertakings, and found religious dissipation in attending conferences and comparing sensations with those who were similarly affected. But this enthusiasm did not last. Finally, she developed a distinct form of hysteria, all her time being devoted either to her health or books, the latter romances either of religious or purely sensational emotion.

"As a child I had been left to nurses and governesses, seldom allowed to enter my mother's room, and whenever the opportunity occurred, it was quite apparent that I was there on sufferance, and that the sooner I left the better it would be for every one concerned. When old enough I was sent to school, and as I was nearly seventeen when I left, you can fancy that my associations with home life were not strong. But though my love may have been weak, it did not prevent me from feeling both pity and terror as I looked on my mother.

"Up to this time I had never been brought face to face either with acute suffering or death. As I stood in helpless perplexity, her rambling words still more alarmed me.

"'I see it all!' she cried. 'Damned! after all I am damned!--Look! the road is broad, and hedged in on both sides with flowers--let me get out of it.--Ah! I cannot!--The thorns cut into my flesh, look--look!--did I not say so?--The smoke is rising there in the distance;--it is coming this way, a great cloud sweeping over me--suffocating me.'

"With a terrible cry she struggled violently for a moment with her hands, tearing wildly at her throat; then with an awful groan she fell back dead!

"I will not dwell upon what followed, or how my father, who had never seemed to care for her in life, now that she was gone referred to her as the only bond which had bound him to earth. He, however, soon grew resigned to what he called 'the mysterious dispensations of Providence.' I had, moreover, during the weeks that followed, to put up with what was to me an exceedingly painful form of retrospection on his part, which usually took place after dinner.

"'My dear,' he would begin, 'if only we could foresee the future, how differently should we act! Many a time have I felt peevish and irritable because your sainted mother was unable to fulfil those duties which her station in life required. It is true that at times I considered there was little excuse for this neglect; but I have been chastened, greatly chastened for such suspicion. A divine Providence has torn from me the jewel which I failed to value, and I must now wander alone through this valley of tears. But resignation, my child--resignation! In vain do we kick against the pricks, and draw our sword to contend with fate. Let us rather ponder on the lesson thus given us, that we may be purged from our evil ways!'

"This sort of talk would continue for some time; the more depressed he became, the more necessary he seemed to find it to continue filling up and emptying his glass, till at last the tears of emotion mingled with the port, and he sank back in his easy chair, to meditate, I suppose, with his eyes shut.

"During the day he seemed fairly cheerful, and spent much of his time with the gamekeepers; for, as he explained to me, it was absolutely necessary for the place to be properly kept up, so that when the shooting season came round, I might be able to entertain my friends. No doubt he meant his friends, but that was the way he put it.

"While he was thus busying himself with outdoor matters, I had the indoor arrangements to attend to, which threw me much in the way of Mrs. King. She was a dear old character; but had my father known her sentiments, it is probable that he would never have engaged her.

"She entirely refused to accept the present position of things, and treated my separation from Vancome as a little temporary joke, which it was her duty to bring to an end as speedily as possible.

"'My dear lady,' she said one day, after giving me a more than usually long piece of family history, 'I shall be glad when Master Frank--my lord, I mean--comes back. Such a nice young man as he is, too, and the prettiest child he was for miles round. You should just have seen the way as every one did spoil him. There were no resisting of his pretty ways. A bit larky, I know, but bless your heart, boys ain't worth much if they don't show spirit! Pity it were his poor dear father and mother both died afore he was a bit older; for though my lord, as was, did give him a free hand, he wouldn't have let him gamble away the old place, so that his wife, bless her, had to buy it back again--not he!'

"'But you don't think I am going to live with him again?' I said. 'It is true that in a foolish moment I married him, but then things were different; I didn't know what he was like, and very likely you have no idea of what he is now. You should hear of the way he goes on in London! It is not the gambling I mind so much, though that is bad enough; but the actresses and ballet-girls with whom he associates--oh! it is simply awful!'

"'Oh! my poor, dear, innocent lady!--whoever can have gone a-talking to you about such things! But, bless your heart! you believe an old woman, there ain't no real badness in Master Frank. He always was a bit too fond perhaps of a pretty face, but then all of 'em is much the same. It is the girl's fault, I reckon, nine times out of ten; and many's the day I've had to bustle off some young minx of a housemaid, or maybe even a scullery wench, for the way they'd carry on, and he no more than a boy of fifteen! I ain't got any patience, that I haven't, with the girls of the present day! No self-respect, or keeping in their place. Why, I've even heard 'em a'quarrelling as to which he were fondest of, and which he had kissed last. But I soon had the hussies out of the house in those days! And I got pretty careful about the choice of their successors; they weren't overdone with good looks the next lot, I can tell you! Well, you see, when a young man goes out like into the world, he has got to sow his wild oats a bit afore he settles down; but you take an old woman's word for it, the young lord's good at heart, and happy you'll make me when I see the two of you together. Ay! and when I hold the young lord that is to be in these arms, as I did his father nigh on twenty-seven years ago!'

"After this manner and, as I got to know her better, in an even more familiar strain, did the old housekeeper do her best to alter my decision. Her arguments might have lacked logic, but she was a clever old thing in her way, and the love which she really felt for her young lord was more powerful than her justification of his faults. The stories of his childhood, picked doubtless out of many less attractive, were always in his favour, and showed his bravery, affection, and brightness. What, however, influenced me more than anything else were her pictures of the romantic side of married life, which differed entirely from anything I had been led to fancy. She would conclude a long rambling discourse on the subject in this manner--

"'Ah! little can you know what a woman misses as never has a chance of being loved--never can turn her mind back to the joys which come flocking down on a bride. Thanks be to heaven! I knowed it, though it weren't for long. But when I looks at an old maid, why I feels just fit to cry. To have gone through life and not know nothing about it! Never to have felt that there was one man as loved you, and would have done anything to call you his own--to feel each year as it goes by that your chance is getting less of waking out of this sort of half-and-half existence, and beginning to live! It is just this. A girl as isn't married ain't natural; and things as ain't natural ain't good in no ways. We was told to be fruitful and multiply, and replenish the earth, and they as can and don't, is to my mind going right dead against Scripture!'"

*CHAPTER X*

"Two months passed, and it is probable that soon I might have tired of the monotony of this existence, had not my school-friend, Amy Howell, come to stay with me. She was one of a large family, and her father, a country clergyman, having recently lost money, had now some difficulty in making both ends meet.

"At school we had been great friends; she was a year older than myself, and as great a contrast in appearance as in disposition. Her short, black, and rather coarse hair curled round a pretty forehead; she had a dark, clear complexion--the colour of cream in which a few drops of coffee have been mixed; a bright, deep colour; full, pretty-shaped, pouting lips, ever ready and ever seeming ready for kisses; while the natural gaiety of her nature peeped through the thick lashes which partially concealed her large hazel eyes.

"She possessed a fortunate knack of always being able to make herself agreeable, and of appearing to take an interest in any subject that might arise. Her enemies called her insincere, a flatterer, and time-server; but I cannot say that I ever noticed these faults myself. Her worst enemy could not have called her dull.

"She soon became a great favourite with my father, who found her a sympathetic listener to his woes whenever he felt disposed to air them. Mrs. King could not speak too highly of her, and the servants were unanimous in their praise of her consideration and kindness.

"'It is surprising why people are ever nasty,' she said to me one day, when I was commenting on her popularity. 'It is so easy to make people like you if you only try. To be cross with others makes one cross with oneself. Now you, for instance, are always kind, and think what a happy life you have!'

"'I don't know so much about my kindness,' I answered; 'any way, it's quite a different thing from yours. Now look at the way you got over old Mrs. Scott yesterday; I simply can't bear the woman, with her conceited vulgarity!--and her patronizing manner puts all my bristles up. I feel I could scratch her! While if she had been your lover instead of an ugly old woman, you could hardly have appeared more affectionate!'