and mystery, and to assure him that his name was a delightful one.

"I trust I am not the disciple of either the men whose name I bear.
Certainly I am susceptible to the influence of ladies"--and he smiled,
thereby showing his white, shining teeth--"but I am a great admirer of
honest men, whoever they may be, or whatever be their opinion. I am not
a follower of Voltaire, although I admire his genius. He believed but
little in the powers of the soul, or in the spirit world; I, on the
other hand, believe it to be more real than the world in which we live."

"We are not altogether strangers to stories about spiritualism or
mesmerism here," said Miss Forrest, "but the votaries of these so-called
sciences have been and are such miserable specimens of mankind that
educated people treat them with derision."

There was decision and energy in her voice. Evidently she was not one to
be easily deceived or trifled with.

"Counterfeits prove reality," said Voltaire, looking searchingly at her;
"besides, I seek to impose none of my stories on any one. I am not a
professional spiritualist, psychologist, or biologist. I simply happen
to have lived in countries where these matters are studied, and, as a
consequence, have learned some of their mysteries. Seeing what I have
seen, and hearing what I have heard, I beg to quote your greatest poet--

'There are more things in heaven and earth than are dreamt of in your
philosophy.'"

"Your quotation is apropos," she said in reply, "but it so happens that
I have taken considerable interest in the matter about which you have