“Oh, if I could speak to that vision of superlative beauty, I am sure she would befriend my poor sister.” Suddenly Demetrius touched me on the shoulder and whispered: “My sister wishes to see you.” I followed him, asking no questions, bewildered, unthinking, but whispering to myself, “Helena wishes to see me!” We passed through the superb hall, and opening a door near the end of it, Demetrius ushered me into the room without entering himself. Helena advanced to meet me. I was delighted with the extraordinary warmth of her reception. If we had been passionate lovers long separated, she could not have manifested more pleasure at seeing me! Superbly beautiful as she was, that heavenly radiance and purity which I had seen upon her countenance a few moments before, had vanished. There was nothing spiritual in her expression. She was plainly no spirit and no soul just created, but a perfectly formed, glowing, enchanting woman of flesh and blood. I was about questioning her on the subject of her extraordinary deception, when she spoke: “I knew you wanted to see me. I sent Demetrius out to look for you. You are in trouble, and I long to assist you. Sit down with me on these cushions and tell me all your story.” She touched a little bell, and a tall, stately servant appeared at the door. “Wine and refreshments,” said Helena. We sat down together, and I told her all about poor Mary, still wisely omitting the part of Beltrezzor. The tears glistened in her brilliant eyes, and she exclaimed: “As soon as Simon finishes his lecture, I will persuade him to grant your request. I have great power over him.” A pang shot through my heart as I thought of Simon—the husband of this resplendent object of my youthful adoration. Alas! what was Helena to me? Why did I not remember the fatal effect of her love upon me? Why did I not remember the lessons of the spiritual world? Are there not passions which we can never conquer, struggle as we may? Are there not Canaanites of the soul that can never be expelled? The wine and refreshments were brought, and Helena whispered something to the servant. I heard only the last words, “Tell him to make haste.” I thought it was a message to Simon, and that my dear benefactress was impatient to intercede for my sister. “Come,” she said, “pledge our future joys in this delicate wine, and then tell me all about that wonderful voyage they say you made into the world of spirits.” Fool that I was! excited by the powerful liquor, and still more intoxicated by the presence and smiles of that bewitching woman who repeatedly took my hand in hers, I profaned sacred things by lowering them to the level of her vulgar and sensual mind. She seemed vastly entertained by my story; and when I described the great feast of Grecian spirits, and her own splendid appearance in the scene, and her terrible metamorphosis, she laughed uproariously, and said it was one of the most charming stories she had ever heard in her life.