tion is one of great peril, and
upon your own decision this day will rest your hopes of happiness
hereafter. Still, you must not be cast down; if you will only resolve to
do what is right, your sorrows will gradually pass away, while health
and happiness will steadily return to you. Your worst crime was the
destruction of your unborn child, for that was a sin against nature
herself; but true repentance will save you from the effects of that sin,
further than you have already suffered."

This was the first time Lucille had mentioned the fact that she knew of
the abortion; yet it seemed perfectly natural to Mrs. Thayer that
Lucille should know it; hence, beyond turning very pale at the memory of
her suffering, she did not manifest any special emotion on hearing
Lucille's words.

The sibyl continued speaking as she gazed, first at Mrs. Thayer's hand,
and then at the chart:

"This man, whom you so wrongly love, does not return you the affection
of a true husband; he loves you only for selfish, sensual purposes; he
will fondle you as a plaything for a few years, and then he will cast
you off for a younger and more handsome rival, even as he has already
put away his first wife for your sake. If you do not give him up now,
some day he will throw you aside or trample you under foot. Think you he
will fear to do in the future what he has done in the past? When he
wearies of you, have you any doubt that he will murder you _as he has
already murdered his wife_?"

Lucille had spoken in a rapid, sibilant whisper, leaning forward so as
to bring her eyes directly before Mrs. Thayer's face, and the effect was
electrical. Mrs. Thayer struggled for a moment, as if she would rise,
and then fell back and burst into tears. This was a fortunate relief,
since she would have fainted if she had not obtained some mode of escape
for her pent-up feelings. Seeing that there was no further danger of
overpowering Mrs. Thayer, as long as she was able to cry, Lucille
continued:

"Yes, the heartless villain murdered his wife by poisoning her. I can
see it all as it occurred; it is a dreadful scene, yet I know that it
must be true--a woman of middle age is lying in bed; she has evidently
been very handsome, but now she shows signs of a long illness; your
lover, her husband, enters, and he wishes to give her some medicine; but
see, she motions him away, though she is unable to speak; she must know
that he is going to poison her; yet she cannot help