in this world) before disease and death? Not your son's happiness
only, but your own peace of mind, is concerned in taking heed to
my words. I warn you, madam, you cannot hinder the destined union
of these two child-spirits, in after-years, as man and wife. Part
them now--and YOU will be responsible for the sacrifices,
degradations and distresses through which your George and my Mary
may be condemned to pass on their way back to each other in later
life.

"Now my mind is unburdened. Now I have said all.

"If I have spoken too freely, or have in any other way
unwittingly offended, I ask your pardon, and remain, madam, your
faithful servant and well-wisher,
HELEN DERMODY."

So the letter ended.

To me it is something more than a mere curiosity of epistolary
composition. I see in it the prophecy--strangely fulfilled in
later years--of events in Mary's life, and in mine, which future
pages are now to tell.

My mother decided on leaving the letter unanswered. Like many of
her poorer neighbors, she was a little afraid of Dame Dermody;
and she was, besides, habitually averse to all discussions which
turned on the mysteries of spiritual life. I was reproved,
admonished, and forgiven; and there was the end of it.

For some happy weeks Mary and I returned, without hinderance or