Another second, and the cabin was filled with a pearly lustre like the vapour which sweeps across the hills in an early summer dawn--and in the center of this as in an aureole stood a nobly proportioned figure, clad in gold-coloured garments fashioned after the early Greek models. Presumably this personage was human,--but never was a semblance of humanity so transfigured. The face and form were those of a beautiful youth,--the eyes were deep and brilliant,--and the expression of the features was one of fine serenity and kindliness. Morgana gazed and gazed, bending herself towards her wonderful visitor with all her soul in her eyes,--when suddenly the vision, if so it might be called, paled and vanished. She uttered a little cry. "Oh, why have you gone so soon?" she exclaimed. "It is not I who have gone,"--replied the Voice--"It is only the reflection of me. We cannot project a light picture too far or too long. And even now--when you come to us--if you ever do come!--do you think you will remember me?" "How could I forget anyone so beautiful!" she said, with passionate enthusiasm. This time the Sound Ray conveyed a vibration of musical laughter. "Where every being has beauty for a birthright, how should you know me more than another!" said the Voice--"Beauty is common to all in our city--as common as health, because we obey the Divine laws of both." She stretched out her hands appealingly. "Oh, if I could only come to you now!" she murmured. "Patience!" and the Voice grew softer--"There is something for you to do in the world. You must lose a love before you find it!" She drew a quick breath. What could these words mean? "It is time for you now to turn homeward,"--went on the Voice--"You must not be seen above this City at dawn. You would be attacked and instantly destroyed, as having received a warning which you refused to heed." "Do you attack and destroy all strangers so?" she asked--"Is that your rule?" "It is our rule to keep away the mischief of the modern world"--replied the Voice--"As well admit a pestilence as the men and women of to-day!" "I am a woman of to-day,"--said Morgana. "No, you are not,--you are a woman of the future!" and the Voice was grave and insistent--"You are one of the new race. At the appointed hour you will take your part with us in the new world?" "When will be that hour?" There was a pause. Then, with an exceeding sweetness and solemnity the Voice replied-- "If He will that we tarry till He come, what is that to thee?" A sense of great awe swept over her, oppressive and humiliating. She looked once more through her cabin window at the city spread out below, and saw that some of the lights were being extinguished in the taller buildings and on the bridges which connected streets and avenues in a network of architectural beauty. The Voice spoke again-- "We are releasing you from the barrier. You are free to depart." She sighed. "I have no wish to go!" she said.