question of the soul's survival after
death"--ignore it till some loved one dies, then they, too, agonize in
secret over the mystery for a space, only to rise and go back to their
work, concealing the conviction which their hour of anguish brought to
them.

Perhaps it was not chance, but deep design, which had brought this
vigorous young investigator face to face with a mystery crying out for
solution--certainly it was not without craft that the unseen powers
had baited their hook with the almost irresistible allurement of a
young and ardent girl. If there is logic in the shadow, fate was on
Viola's side.

II

NEWS OF VIOLA

One morning in late March, while Serviss was still at his morning's
mail, Dr. Britt's card came in, bringing with it instant, vivid
recollection of Colorow. The beauty of his days there had by no means
faded from his mind, although he had succeeded in putting his romance
in the background of his working brain, and had given up all thought
of ever seeing Viola again.

He greeted Britt most cordially. "So you turned up at last! How is the
lung? Isn't this a raw time of the year for you?"

"Well, yes; but my father died a few days ago, and I had to come on,
and being near I ran in to see how you and the 'bugs' were getting
on."

"Oh, we're thriving. Their ways are quite absorbing. How is your own
'farm'?"

"All in ruins. The fact is I've neglected the poor little brutes. I
had no time for germs after I went off into the study of 'spooks.'"

"You don't tell me you've turned investigator of spirits! What have
you discovered?"

"Not a thing. It's the most elusive problem I ever tackled. You
remember the Lamberts?"

"Very well. I was about to ask about them."

"They're here now."

"Here! In New York?"

"Yes. They went to Boston last fall--Boston is a hot-bed of spookism,
as you may know. They spent the winter there among the brethren, and
have come on here for a change."

"They'll get it. What is--the girl doing?"

"Spooking mainly. That's all her 'guides' will allow her to do. Clarke
still dominates the household by the aid of the ghostly granddaddy--a
grim old chap that. They hold regular 'seances' now."

"You don't mean it!" Serviss grew graver yet of countenance. "I had
hoped they would spare her that humiliation. I haven't seen her name
in the papers."

"Oh, they don't go quite so far as that. The circles are 'very
select.' Only the priests of the faith and their fri