I heard a door open. I looked back, and saw Mr. Axtell coming from the library. He came quickly along the hall, arrested his sister's progress, and said gently, as twice he had spoken before,-- "Lettie, where are you going?" "In there, Abraham." "No, Lettie, you are sick; you must go back up-stairs." "I will, when I have told her what I wish." "Whom?" "Mother." What could Mr. Axtell have meant? He asked me to bring down the lamp; he took it in his own hand, and, supporting his sister, moved on. Was he going to take her in there. He did. I fled back to the library; trembling in affright, I sank into the first chair, and, covering my face with my hands, thought,-- "What terrible people these are! Why did I come here, where I was not wanted?" "Poor child!" I started up at the words. Mr. Axtell left the door open. "You think it strange that I let my sister follow out such a sick fancy, I suppose." "I think it is dreadful,--terrible." "Oh, no, it is not. Why do you think so?" "Talking to dead people!" "Well?" "They don't hear you." "Perhaps not." "You _know_ they _can't_." "No, I do not." "Then go and learn it. Will you go and listen in there?" "I will not." "Why?" "Lettie wished to be alone." "You're very strange people." "We are." He got up quickly, confusedly, crossed the room, and turned a picture that was upon the sofa. I had not noticed it before. I glanced up at the wall. The face was gone. The picture that be turned must have been that. He came back and stood before me. "Were you frightened when Lettie came down?" he asked. "Yes; how could I help it?" "Why didn't you turn the lock?" "I was asleep when she went out." "What awakened you?" "The cold air from the hall." "A careful nurse, you are!" "I am not careful." "No?" He teased me, this man. I hate to be teased. And all this time, whilst he stood questioning me, Miss Axtell was in that lone, silent room, confessing to the dead. It was worse than the tower-confessional; and besides, what had she done that was so bad? Nothing, I felt convinced. Why would she do such a thing? I think I must have spoken the last thought; for Mr. Axtell answered it in his next words. "Lettie is only working out a necessity of her own spirit. She is not harming any living soul. I cannot see why you should look so white and terrified about it. Have you tasted the coffee?" I had not thought of it: I told him so. "Did you give my sister what the doctor left for her?" Honestly, I had forgotten that the powders were to be given every half-hour, and I had offered only one. "I don't think you have chosen your vocation wisely," he said, when I had told him of my forgetfulness. "It seems not."