Dawn sat beside him, the same grieved but saintly face shone out, in the atmosphere.
“I have heard, Miss Wyman, that you sometimes have interior sight-that you can see conditions of the mind, and the cause of its depressions. May I ask you if you can at present, penetrate my state, and ascertain the cause of this unrest?”
She was silent for a moment. The workings of her own mind were visible on her features. She scarce knew how to break the truth to him, but soon lighting up she said:
“I think I have seen at least one cause of your unrest. There is a spirit presence now in this room, a young and lovely girl whom you have at some time neglected.” She did not say “wronged.”
He started to his feet.
“The face, Miss Wyman; can you describe her appearance?” his words and manner indicating his interest, if not belief, in her power.
“She has light blue eyes, heaven blue, and brown hair. She is a little taller then myself, has a very fair complexion, and she holds a wreath of oak leaves in front of you.”
Clarence turned deadly pale.
“I think she must have been once dear to you, by the look of sweet forgiveness which she gives you.”
He groaned aloud.