Under the influence of this knowledge Mrs. Doring became transformed into a new being. Her previous life now seemed to have been simply a blind groping after the most unstable and foolish ideals,--a more intellectual childhood. So uplifted and filled to overflowing was she with joy and gratitude that her face took on a new beauty that impressed even the least observing of her friends. But one flavor of bitterness tinged her cup, and that was that she was forbidden to share the glad tidings with others. Chrissalyn had been insistent that nothing be told, and Cartice was obliged to yield to her ruling on this point, and also saw the necessity for it, but longed fervently to gather in many dwelling in darkness and share her light with them. Why hide it under the bushel of timidity? Was not all the world searching for that which had come in beautiful simplicity and generous fulness to her? How grateful others would be to know what she knew? She was humbly, profoundly grateful, and of course they, too, would be. After a time this pent-up fountain began to overrun its borders and trickle its way to other ears. When she heard people bewailing the difficult and cruel conditions under which they suffered, she could not help giving of her inexhaustible store of comfort. She must say to them, “These things are unreal and of no moment. Your true life is above and beyond them always, and is of unlimited possibilities here and hereafter.” And when they wept because of some slain lamb, she said, “He is not dead; he never died and never shall die. This is an appearance only, an illusion. There is no death. Life goes on, on, without end, I _know_ it.” In order that they might believe and be comforted, she related the experiences on which her assurances were based, leaving out Chrissalyn’s name, of course. She met the fate of all who have lovingly tried to set poor, ignorant humanity free from its self-imposed chains. She was stoned.