rply. "I wanted a child to satisfy my
emotional nature. What else do you think I wanted it for?"

Mrs. Walters' face shone with ineffable tenderness.

"That is what I want you to find out, my darling. When you have answered
that question I believe the barrier that keeps your dear mother away
will be removed. Now I am going to leave you to your own thoughts. God
bless you!"

* * * * *

At ten o'clock Dr. Leroy directed Mrs. Wells to prepare herself for the
night and told her she was to sleep in a different room, a large chamber
that had been made ready on the floor below. As Penelope entered this
room a dim light revealed some shadowy pieces of furniture and at the
back a recess hung with black curtains. In this was a couch and two
chairs and on the wall a familiar old print, "Rock of Ages," showing a
woman clinging to a cross in a tempest.

"Please lie down, Mrs. Wells," said Leroy with cheerful friendliness.
"You don't mind these electrics?"

He turned on a strong white light that shone down upon the patient and
threw the rest of the room into darkness. Then Penelope, exquisitely
lovely in her white robe, stretched herself on the couch, while the
doctor and Seraphine seated themselves beside her.

"This light will make you sleep better when I turn it off," explained
the physician. Then he added: "I will ask Dr. Owen to come in a little
later."

Eleven o'clock!

Not yet had the patient spoken and time was passing, the minutes that
remained were numbered. Mrs. Walters essayed by appealing glances to
open the obstinately closed doors of Penelope's spiritual consciousness,
but it was in vain.

Half past eleven!

The spiritual healer rose, his face set with an unalterable purpose.

"I will turn down the light, Mrs. Wells," he said quietly. "I want you
to compose yourself. Remember that God is watching over you. You are
God's child. He will guard you from all evil. Hold that thought strongly
as you go to sleep."

Penelope closed her eyes. Her face was deathly pale in the shadows. The
minutes passed.

"I--I am afraid to go to sleep," the sufferer murmured, and her hands
opened and closed nervously as if they were clutching at something.

"Think of your mother, dear," soothed Seraphine. "Her pure spirit is
near you, trying to come nearer. _Oh God, keep Penelope, Thy loving
child, under the close guardianship of her mother's exalted spirit in
this her hour of peril._"

Twelve