proceeded to fall into a deep and trance-like slumber--a slumber
that prevailed through the terrified questionings, whimperings,
and agitated shakings by her friend.

It is an awesome thing to seek repose beside one wrapped in
trance; it is worse to traverse unlighted halls and ghostly
stairs in an effort to awake the gifted medium's family. Wrapped
in terror as in an icy sheet, after divers Herculean efforts to
rouse the log beside her, the responsive victim fell into a
troubled slumber with her head well under the bedclothes.

The gray dawn was in the room when she was awakened by what
seemed to be muffled sobs from--the figure beside her. In an
instant wide awake and palpitating, she fell upon Dorothea. "What
is it? Oh, what is it?" she cried.

"I have had it," said Dorothea in a sepulchral whisper. "The
vision. Oh," she turned dramatically from the instant question,
"I can't bear to tell you!--It was about you."

"Dorothea, you've GOT to tell me! I think you're HORRID. I'm
going right downstairs to tell your mother."

"Of course I'm going to tell you," said the sybil crossly. She
resumed her chest tones hurriedly. "I must tell you. It was sent
to me to tell you. I wanted to prepare you."

"Prepare? Oh, Dorothea, what WAS it?"

Dorothea stood upright on the bed, and her eyes assumed the