hing of fear.

"Don't you see how close this kept me to Dad? I've been living with
him almost as though I were really with him. We've taken over again
the old walks and many news ones. This seemed to go on just the same
after we received word that he had died--stricken with a fever in
South America somewhere."

She paused, taking a quick breath.

"All that is not so strange," she ran on; "but yesterday--yesterday in
the crystal I saw him--here in Boston."

"What!"

"As clearly as I see you. He was walking down a street near the
Gardens."

"It might have been someone who resembled him."

"No, it was Dad. He was thinner and looked strange, but I knew him as
though it were only yesterday that he had gone away."

"But if he is dead----"

"He isn't dead," she answered with conviction.

"On the strength of that vision you came here to look for him?"

"Yes."

"When you believe, you believe hard, don't you?"

"I believe the crystal," she answered soberly.

"Yet you didn't find your father?"

"No," she admitted.

"You are still sure he is here?"

"I am still sure he is living. I may have made a mistake in the place,
but I know he is alive and well somewhere. I shall look again in the
crystal to-morrow."

"Yes, to-morrow," answered Wilson, vaguely.

He rose to his feet.

"But there is still the hunger of to-day."

She seemed disappointed in the lightness with which apparently he took
her search.

"You don't believe?"

"I believe you. And I believe that you believe. But I have seen little
of such things myself. In the meanwhile it would be good to eat--if
only a few crackers. Are you afraid to stay here alone while I explore
a bit?"

She shook her head.

He was gone some ten minutes, and when he came back his loose robe
bulged suspiciously in many places.

"Madame," he exclaimed, "I beg you to observe me closely. I snap my
fingers twice,--so! Then I motion,--so! Behold!"

He deftly extricated from one of the large sleeves a can of soup, and
held it triumphantly aloft.

"Once more,--so!"

He produced a package of crackers; next a can of coffee, next some
sugar. And she, watching him with face alight, applauded vigorously
and with more genuine emotion than usually greets the acts of a
prestidigitator.

"But, oh!" she exclaimed, with her hands clasped beneath her chin,
"don't you dare to make them disappear again!"

"Madame," answered Wilson, with a bow, "that shall be your privilege."