When it was all over the avenger turned and, tossing the vial to the lady, said in a loud, triumphant voice,--“Well, here we are, Mrs. Vanderhook; here’s your essence of mysticism for your _mooshoir_, and here”--laughing uproariously,--“is a soov’nir spoon for your next pink tea. And now, my dear girl”--as Imogene began to look mournful again--“if you’ll give up this strenuous occultism and be contented with your old Billsey on the earth plane, I’ll cry quits, and get you anything you want--that isn’t astral.” Imogene wiped her eyes. She looked at him inquiringly. Then she looked at the vial. Then she sidled up alongside her husband. And now Bill smiled--but it was under his breath. “What is it, Petsey”--and his arm closed around her. “How would you like one of those dandy little watches, or--” “Oh, Billsey boy, I do believe after all that it’s you that’s _IT_. I feel this very minute as if we’d just vibrate together after this splendidly. I bet anything, if you’d just practice a little, you could be up to me in no time.” The Honorable Mayor of Kankakee turned away to conceal his emotion. And when his expression was out of sight he winked--once--slowly and--judiciously--at the now silent cylinder. Then he said modestly,--“Yes, Honey, I mean to get even with you if I’m spared. And if you want--” “The watch? Oh, Billsey dear, I should think I did. If you hadn’t dissolved Lonnie he would have gotten me one soon. But, say, can’t I have, too, one of those dear--dear--markee rings? They’re just too, too, utterly--” “‘Course you can. You can have a whole tray full if you want ’em. You see, Leff saved me a lot of money; and now I’ll spend it on you. You can have rings and pins and any other truck necessary to your happiness.” “Oh, Billsey, you don’t mean that you will take me to Chicago this winter to the grand opera, and the charity ball, and the horse show, and all the big department stores,--and--and--” “Yes, yes, old girl, I’ll take you to all these and everything else that you can’t think of now, and then to the Stock Yards; for it won’t be like going home without seeing the Yards.” “You’re a dear, sweet, blessed--” “But here, see here, Imogene, all this is _provided_--that there are no more Dudes from Devachan to deal with. D’ye hear me? Is it a go?” “Here’s my mitt,”--and Imogene laid her delicate little hand in Bill’s big paw. And thus, over the--no, not the ashes--but the essence of the late Alonzo Leffingwell, Gnani of Gingalee, and Modern Mystic of Low Degree,--was enacted the full and complete reconciliation of Mr. and Mrs. Vanderhook.... “I say, Genesy, girl, it’s supper time, and I’m hungry as a wolf. And say, too, I’m as dry as a fish.” “Me, too”--murmured Imogene, and clutching up the back of her gown in one hand she laid the other tenderly and confidingly upon her husband’s arm. And the husband and wife turned from the laboratory and paused in the library. The untouched spread was still on the table.