en severed by the diversion, and had slowly to be rewoven
by the seeress's will.

"I can see only dimly," Madalena said. "It was clear before! I cannot
tell you why the things you care for were left.... Something _new_ is
coming. It seems that this time I am looking ahead, into the future. The
picture is blurred--like a badly developed photograph. The thing I see
has still to materialize."

"Where?" whispered Constance, thrilled by the thought that some event on
its way to her down the unknown path of futurity was casting a shadow
into the crystal. "Where?"

"I see a beautiful room. There are a number of people there--men and
women. You are with them, and Lord Annesley-Seton--and Nelson Smith and
your cousin Anne. I know most of the faces--not all. Everyone is excited.
Something has happened. They are talking it over.... Now I see the room
more clearly. It is as if a light were turned on in the crystal. Oh, it
is what you call the Chinese drawing room, at Valley House. I know why
the room lights up, and why I see everything so much more clearly. It is
because I myself am coming into the picture.

"The people want me to tell them the meaning of the thing that has
happened. It seems that I know about it. I do not hesitate to answer. It
must be that I have been consulting the crystal, for I seem sure of what
I say to them! I point toward the door--or is it at something on the
wall--or is it a person? Ah, the picture is gone from the crystal!"

"How irritating!" cried Lady Annesley-Seton, who felt that supernatural
forces ought to be subject to her convenience. "Can't you make it come
back if you concentrate?"

Madalena shook her head. "No, it will not come back. I am sure of that,
because when the crystal clouds as if milk were pouring into it, I know
that I shall never see the same picture again. Whether it is a cross
current in myself or the crystal, I cannot tell; but it amounts to the
same thing. I am sorry! It is useless to try any more. Shall we go to the
other room and have tea?"

Constance did not persist, as she wished to do. She had to take the
Countess's word that further effort would be useless, but she felt
thwarted, as if the curtain had fallen by mistake in the middle of an
act, and the characters on the stage had availed themselves of the chance
to go home.

It was vexatious enough that Madalena had not been able to explain the
mystery of last night. But this was ten times more annoying.

"Am I n