“Dr. Lyman? Oh, yes; Mrs. Wallace was telling me about him. Do you care to hear him?� asked Mrs. Wylie doubtfully.
“Most assuredly, and so must you. People say he is remarkably interesting; and besides, it will never do to lose so good an opportunity to learn of the invisible world toward which we are fast hastening; eh, Nelly?�
“But, Horace—� Little Mrs. Wylie hesitated and raised her blue eyes to his questioningly.
“Well, my dear, I am the personification of devout attention; what will you have?�
“I wonder—do you really believe he knows any more about the other world than any one else?�
“Undoubtedly; a great deal more.� Mr. Wylie assumed a serio-comic air.
“I don’t see why; but I mean, do you really believe he is right? Do you believe they are right who believe in spirit manifestation and all that sort of thing?�
“Do I believe in them who do believe? My dear girl, you are asking unanswerable questions. I believe in an infinite number of things or I believe in nothing. It is to find out just what I believe that I propose to attend Dr. Lyman’s lectures. I have listened to the preaching of orthodoxy from childhood; now, I will absorb a little heterodoxy and see if it is any more clear to the human comprehension. But I must be going. Is not that the fair lady again?�
“Yes, and see, she has another and different-sized parcel. Poor thing, I wonder if it is hard work?�
“I think I’ll go down on the street and get a nearer view of the fair unknown. It seems to me I have seen that face some time before this. It is probably a chance resemblance to some one I have known, that haunts me. Good-by.� And kissing his hand to his wife, Mr. Wylie left the room.