he thinks so little, as
that mystery of _himself_ incarnated in the temporary prison-house of
flesh and blood. Did he once realise what he might be--did he ever
raise his eyes from the glow-worm light of earth to the stupendous
glories of the sun of wisdom, he would know better than to cavil at what
you call `improbable.' For in nature all things are possible, but man
has neither time nor patience to trace out their mysteries, or seek in
their development the key to those mysteries."

"Gracious sakes," muttered Mrs Jefferson to herself in alarm. "I'm
sure she's a Rosicrucian or something of that sort. It's interesting,
but uncanny. I'm quite out of my depth. I don't know what she means.
Do you really mean to say," she added aloud, "that this story might be
true; that you have two bodies and can slip from one to the other?"

A dark frown crept over the beautiful face. "You talk as foolishly as a
child," she said with contempt. "You know nothing of the subject you
are discussing, therefore anything I might say would sound
incomprehensible. The grossness of the flesh stifles and kills the
subtle workings of the spirit. To you life is only a pleasure ground,
and the more your own personal satisfaction is obtainable, the more you
cling to its spurious enjoyments. If you once cut yourself adrift from
such follies, your eyes would be opened, your senses quickened, and you
would recognise possibilities and marvels that now are no more to you
than sunlight to the blind worm that burrows in the ground." She
stretched out her hand and took the book from the passive hand of her
astounded companion, and glanced rapidly over its pages.

"`Light in Darkness.' Ah, truly it is needed," she said, her eyes
kindling, her face glowing, until her beauty seemed more than mortal.
"But we shall never reach it till we learn to master the senses, to cut
the chains of worldly prejudice and conventionalism. They are bold
teachers, these," and she tossed the magazine back to the still silent
critic of its contents. "You would do well," she said, "to make
yourself acquainted with some of these subjects. I think you would find
them more interesting than ball-rooms and Paris toilettes."

Mrs Jefferson recovered her tongue at that slight to her beloved
vanities.

"Tastes differ," she said coolly. "I'm very well content with the world
as it is and with myself as I am. I don't believe any good ever comes
of prying into subjects we'r