After a period of quiet and another hymn the curtains again parted and a slender woman appeared. No one approached her as she stood before them and delivered a short oration, the theme of which was “Universal Progress,� the diction and thought in no wise remarkable.
She withdrew to give place to another figure, which called a name in a soft, plaintive voice.
“Oh, it is my wife!� cried a man in the audience, and he went forward, and grasping the materialized spirit by the arm, he led her forward about the room, while she shook hands with other friends who seemed to recognize her.
Mrs. Wylie shook in an agony of apprehension.
“Don’t, don’t let her come near me!� she gasped, while her heart beat to suffocation. She looked at the white, eager face of Mrs. Lucien, and the not less interested face of her husband. She clutched him by the arm, while she grew hot and cold by turns. But the figure turned away before reaching her, and stepped back into the cabinet. Then several others came out and were recognized, kissed, and spoken to by friends.
At length came the figure of a man, who spoke in a faint voice.
The usher came to the lady sitting next to Mrs. Wylie upon the left.
“It is for you,� he said.
The lady arose, went across the room to the cabinet, clasped the figure in her arms, calling him her dear brother, and when he disappeared came back to her seat, sobbing and crying bitterly.
Mrs. Wylie wrung her hands in the pause of darkness and silence which followed.