“When she joins me here, I shall have a companion whom I can love. When I cannot come back anymore, I shall remain with her. She has a tender heart; she would be kind to me. I have been so lonesome here—no one knows how lonesome!”

Another voice fell clearly upon the ears of those present. All recognized it as Clare’s, although it sounded far away. The words issued slowly but distinctly from the entranced girl’s lips.

“Margie—Dad—Ned—I can see you and hear you, although I am not in my poor sick body. All is well with me. Don’t forget that. All is well with me here. I am very happy. Here all is life and light. I am not lame here. I can run as Margie runs in our garden. Don’t call me back! I am so happy here! I can be near you all when I please—and I feel no pain—only such a happiness as I never felt before. You won’t call me back to limp on my crutches again, will you, dear ones?”

Clifford Bentley began wringing his hands with a kind of tense anguish that was terrible to behold. Now his voice rang out clearly.

“Oh, I have done wrong. I see it now. Poor little Clare! It is my fault that you will not return. I have made your earth life wretched, poor child. Forgive me, little Clare. I promise never to trouble Margie again, for your sake!”

“Poor Clifford!” How heavenly sweet were the tones of Clare’s faraway voice! “You were lonely. Now I understand. And I cannot blame you, poor lonely Clifford. After all, you must not reproach yourself—I shall be happier here—I can be with my dear ones as I choose—and I shall suffer no more with a weak heart and useless feet.”

The figure of the entranced girl sank lower in the chair. The psychic cried out suddenly as she felt that cold hand pulling on her own warm one.

“Turn on the lights!” she commanded, her voice agitated and alarmed. “Oh, why did I consent to this! I know what Douglas will say to me, now.”

Margaret, almost holding her breath, heard a soft whisper in her ear. “Good-bye, my Margie. I shall always be near you. God bless you.”

Ned, still holding his sweetheart’s hand tightly in his own, felt a soft cheek brush his, and he trembled on the verge of tears. Something told him it was Clare’s farewell to him.

Dr. Sloane fumbled for the electric switch. As he put out his hand to turn it on, the figure of Clifford Bentley dissolved into thin nothingness before the eyes of the dazed members of the circle.

The door opened softly.