2. They were apt to be preceded by severe headaches, but came often without any warning. 3. She never, in any instance, recalled anything that happened during the trance, after it was passed. 4. She was powerfully and unpleasantly affected by electricity from a battery, or acting in milder forms. She was also unable at any time to put her hands and arms into hot water; the effect was to paralyze them at once. 5. Space proved to be no impediment to her vision. She has been known to follow the acts, words, and expressions of countenance of members of the family hundreds of miles away, with accuracy as was afterwards proved by comparing notes as to time. 6. The girl's eyes, after her trances became habitual, assumed, and always retained, the most singular expression I ever saw on any face. They were oblong and narrow, and set back in her head like the eyes of a snake. They were not--smile if you will, O practical and incredulous reader! but they were not--eyes. The eyes of Elsie Venner are the only eyes I can think of as at all like them. The most horrible circumstance about them--a circumstance that always made me shudder, familiar as I was with it--was, that, though turned fully on you, _they never looked at you_. Something behind them or out of them did the seeing, not they. 7. She not only saw substance, but soul. She has repeatedly told me my thoughts when they were upon subjects to which she could not by any possibility have had the slightest clew. 8. We were never able to detect a shadow of deceit about her. 9. The clairvoyance never failed in any instance to be correct, so far as we were able to trace it. As will be readily imagined, the girl became a useful member of the family. The lost valuables restored and the warnings against mischances given by her quite balanced her incapacity for peculiar kinds of work. This incapacity, however, rather increased than diminished; and, together with her fickle health, which also grew more unsettled, caused us a great deal of care. The Creston physician--who was a keen man in his way, for a country doctor--pronounced the case altogether undreamt of before in Horatio's philosophy, and kept constant notes of it. Some of these have, I believe, found their way into the medical journals. After a while there came, like a thief in the night, that which I suppose was poor Selphar's one unconscious, golden mission in this world. It came on a quiet summer night, that ended a long trance of a week's continuance. Mother had gone out into the kitchen to give an order for breakfast. I heard a few eager words in Selphar's voice, and then the door shut quickly, and it was an hour before it was opened. Then my mother came to me without a particle of color in lips or cheek, and drew me away alone, and told the secret to me. Selphar had seen Aunt Alice. We sat down and looked at one another. There was a singular, pinched look about my mother's mouth. "Sarah." "Yes."