Mrs. Doring had always clung to the belief that the universe held many mysteries beyond her ken; that marvelous things, hidden from common vision, were destined to some day stand revealed, and no man knew the manner in which they might make themselves known. She had had some experience with professional clairvoyants which had been disenchanting. For the most part they had been clammy, illiterate, unscrupulous, pitiful types of humanity, ready to violate truth and the English language without hesitation or remorse. Now she looked at the Butterfly with an interest that almost amounted to awe. Could it be that the gift of seeing the hidden and unknown belonged to this bright, winged being, who loved the world and the things of the world only? At last she said: “Chrissalyn, you have heard of the faculty of clairvoyance, have you not?” “Yes, of course.” “May it not be that you are a clairvoyant, and saw your dead friends clairvoyantly?” The Butterfly lifted her hands in horror. “O Cartice, how can you suggest such a thing? I a clairvoyant? It would be too dreadful. I wouldn’t have a hint of such a horrid thing get out on me for the world. Why, clairvoyants are hideous creatures, ugly, old, frowsy, untruthful, and advertise to tell you all sorts of things for a dollar.” “But, my own Butterfly, you are not old and ugly and all the rest of it, neither are all clairvoyants. History contains the names of some very eminent ones. What a wonderful and enviable gift clairvoyance must be. How I wish I had it. And if it be true that you are possessed of it, think what it brings to you--light, light from heaven itself--the most glorious light in the universe--proof that the dead have never died.” Her friend’s enthusiasm ensnared the Butterfly’s vanity at once, so that she pricked up her ears and gave heed. Whatever Cartice said had weight with her. It gratified her, in spite of her prejudices, to have a faculty unattainable to ordinary persons. All this darted through her head and settled down into acceptance. “Well, I don’t mind if it is clairvoyance, only don’t tell anybody.” “It’s not a thing to be talked about with those who don’t understand or respect it. It’s too precious. Would I could see such sights. Then I could sing light-hearted tunes and walk on bravely, be my pack never so heavy. Don’t fail to tell me if you see anything more.” Chrissalyn did see something more of the same character very soon, and made haste to describe it to her friend. She had gone to a bank to attend to some business which required more explanation than was convenient to make through the cashier’s window, so she was invited to take a seat in the office of the president, with whom she had some acquaintance.