a peculiarly weird effect to the
illumination.

Dr. Hull now took the remaining chair by Miss Ludington's side, and a
perfect silence of some moments ensued, during which she could perfectly
hear the beating of Paul's heart. Then Alta began, with a wonderfully
soft touch, to play a succession of low, dreamy chords, rather than any
set composition--music that thrilled the listeners with vague suggestions
of the unfathomable mystery and unutterable sadness of human life. She
played on and on. It seemed to two of the hearers that she played for
hours, although it was probably but a few minutes.

At last the music flowed slower, trickled, fell in drops, and ceased.

They had a sensation of being breathed upon by a faint, cool draught of
air, and then appeared in the door-way of the cabinet the figure of a
beautiful girl, which, after standing still a moment, glided forth, by an
imperceptible motion, into the room.

The light, which had before seemed so faint, now proved sufficient to
bring out every line of her face and form. Or was it that the figure
itself was luminous by some light from within?

Paul heard Miss Ludington gasp; but if he had known that she was dying he
could not have taken his eyes from the apparition.

For it was Ida who stood before him; no counterfeit of the painter now,
but radiant with life.

Her costume was exactly that of her picture, white, with a low bodice;
but how utterly had the artist failed to reproduce the ravishing contours
of her young form, the enchanting sweetness of her expression. The golden
hair fell in luxuriant tresses about the face and down the dazzling
shoulders. The lips were parted in a pleased smile as, with a gliding
motion, she approached the rapt watchers.

Her eyes rested on Miss Ludington with a look full of recognition and a
tenderness that seemed beyond the power of mortal eyes to express.

Then she looked at Paul. Her smile was no longer the smile of an angel,
but of a woman. The light of her violet eyes burned like delicious flame
to the marrow of his bones.

She was so near him that he could have touched her. Her beauty overcame
his senses. Forgetting all else, in an agony of love, he was about to
clasp her in his arms, but she drew back with a gentle gesture of denial.

Then a sudden and indescribable wavering passed over her face, like the
passing of the wind over a field of rye, and slowly, as if reluctantly
obeying an unseen attraction, she retreate