and
proper senses so far as I could judge, and yet the whole thing seemed
incredible. Scared? No, I wasn't conscious of being scared. I was
simply bewildered.

"In my mental confusion one thought stood out sharply--Dolly was in
danger of some kind, and if the warning was really from a supernatural
source, it must not be disregarded. I rushed to the station and,
having first wired to my wife not to sail on the _Aragon_, I found
that I could connect with the five-fifteen train for New York. I took
it with the comfortable consciousness that my friends would certainly
think I had gone out of my mind.

"I arrived in New York at eight o'clock the next morning and at once
drove to the hotel where my wife, daughter and brother-in-law were
staying. I found them greatly mystified by my telegram. I suppose my
explanation was a very lame one. I know I felt decidedly like a fool.
Gilbert laughed at me and said I had dreamed the whole thing. Virginia
was perplexed, but Dolly accepted the warning unhesitatingly.

"'Of course it was Uncle Charley,' she said confidently. 'We will not
sail on the _Aragon_ now.'

"Gilbert had to give in to this decision with a very bad grace, and
the _Aragon_ sailed that day minus three of her intended passengers.

"Well, you've all heard of the historic collision between the _Aragon_
and the _Astarte_ in a fog, and the fearful loss of life it involved.
Gilbert didn't laugh when the news came, I assure you. Virginia and
Dolly sailed a month later on the _Marseilles_, and reached the other
side in safety. That's all the story, boys--the only experience of the
kind I ever had," concluded Davenport.

We had many questions to ask and several theories to advance. Jack
said Davenport had dreamed it and that the collision of the _Aragon_
and the _Astarte_ was simply a striking coincidence. But Davenport
merely smiled at all our suggestions and, as it cleared up just about
three, we told no more ghost stories.

Emily's Husband

Emily Fair got out of Hiram Jameson's waggon at the gate. She took her
satchel and parasol and, in her clear, musical tones, thanked him for
bringing her home. Emily had a very distinctive voice. It was very
sweet always and very cold generally; sometimes it softened to
tenderness with those she loved, but in it there was always an
undertone of inflexibility and reserve. Nobody had ever heard Emily
Fair's voice tremble.

"You are more than welcome, Mrs. Fair," said Hir