For a long minute she looked at him, and then she spoke. "The man who died is guiding you," she said; "I know it is that."
He smiled a little. "Can I trust him?" he asked.
"I think so," she answered; "because his appeal is to your better self. You will learn."
"And you will teach me?" he said, quickly.
She was silent.
"You will teach me?" he repeated.
"I am going home," she said. "I live far from here. I have duties which will chain me there for life. You will learn of him alone. You will be guided; do not fear."
He looked at her, and his eyes blazed suddenly. She shrank back with a cry. "Oh, no—not that—not that!" she exclaimed; "I loved him and he is dead. His work descends on us to do, that is all. All!"
The man, looking down at her with the dead man's eyes, was silent.
"I am not able to talk to you," she said, "I can hardly control my voice. He died yesterday, and to-day you speak to me with his voice. And it is so strange,—your coming. It is all so strange."