do later on."

"My dear sir," said Brenton, somewhat offended, "if what you say is
true, and I am really a dead man----"

"Alive," corrected the other.

"Well, alive, then. I may tell you that my wife's heart is broken. She
will never marry again."

"Of course, that is a subject of which you know a great deal more than I
do. I all the more strongly advise you never to see her again. It is
impossible for you to offer any consolation, and the sight of her grief
and misery will only result in unhappiness for yourself. Therefore, take
my advice. I have given it very often, and I assure you those who did
not take it expressed their regret afterwards. Hold entirely aloof from
anything relating to your former life."

Brenton was silent for some moments; finally he said--

"I presume your advice is well meant; but if things are as you state,
then I may as well say, first as last, that I do not intend to accept
it."

"Very well," said the other; "it is an experience that many prefer to go
through for themselves."

"Do you have names in this spirit-land?" asked Brenton, seemingly
desirous of changing the subject.